He wandered a winding path,
through a wood he'd never traversed before.
No particular destination, he would know when he arrived.
The birds chirped and a spring doe darted through the brush somewhere.
He saw sunbeams dance through the budding trees
and felt the cold steel clutched in his hand and he thought
"It is a good enough day, for this sort of walk."
The wind blew,
mixing the music of the birds with that of it's hollow whistle.
The trail broke suddenly, disappearing  like a magicians rabbit.
Sun flooded his eyes, dazzling the senses.
He squinted, seeing a small and lonely field, grass blowing gently,
as if giving him a solemn bow.
The light warmed his cheeks,
and he thought, "Ah this, this spot is good enough."
The walk to the fields center was longer,
then he thought it would be.
And strange,
he couldn't hear the birds anymore.
But he could feel the cold steel clutched in his hand and he,
pressed it to his chin with a BANG... and he thought nothing.
But the wind still blew, and the sun still shone, and the day,
was still good enough.