Laying back on the grass
Watching as the clouds take shape
Melt and reform
Flying through the sky above
I can taste the springtime air
Turning warmer as the wind blows through the trees
Cold water from the mountains courses through the river, swollen and covering the banks
It feeds the trees and plants, like entropy has slowed, the clock turns back while time goes forth
And I empty my words with a voice full of force
Pushing them, shaking violently, and it all explodes at once like a cork from a bottle top
I bellow into the air, to nobody in particular.
“This, this is what I’ve been waiting for!”