not walking softly
dancing on green grass and dandelions
brought to life
and warmed by the sun.
passing by a quiet and still
and experiencing little plips and plops of snow
raining down on my self and the path before me
from the branches above.
not uninterrupted meditation.
not spiritual exaltation.
still, though I'm not entirely certain where exactly it is that this (all of it) shall take me, I'm none the less going.
or being, as the case may be.
i don't exactly know for certain why.
i have only an inkling as to how.
but it seems an important -even crucial!- thing,
"being in stillness".
and so i'll continue to drift
in that general direction.
maybe at some time
in some place
i'll find myself
to have arrived.
painting my life!
just as was always meant to be.