the wood crackles and heat radiates,
a quiet murmur of nature and voices builds.
sipping sweet soda,
warm and comfortable,
happiness radiates as well.
laughter bursts like the fireworks,
set off twenty minutes ago.
it's easy enough to jump
from various conversations.
i am a stranger,
and yet it is welcoming,
therefore i am not strange.
i lay down on the short grass,
watching and interacting,
feeling golden, crimson,
as i watch a piece of wood burn,
glowing inside out,
and life flows through me,
by me,
with me.

endlessly lies the possibilities
of what could be done and why,
and i look up to them in quiet awe.

nothingness envelops me,
sadness creeping up from the dark spots,
but there is a bright side even yet,

i am young, they say,
and i smile politely and remind them,
that age does make wisdom,

however, adversity does is just as well.
lay with me, but breathe gently.
easily disturbed is the balance of it all,

it took too many years to equal out,
please, rest softly,
question meanings, and sleep.

stillness is not the evil in this world.
there lies no shame in it,
but the shame rests in the expectancy

of only productivity.
think of nothingness, and do so daringly,
and find calm in your being.