When I implode creative energy and get dizzy in the park. When I lie on leather black and touch vivid streaks of daybreak. When I dance on marble floors and breathe scented air’s sultry allure. When I’m doubled over with the wrath of a cobra, or my bones turn soft. When mixed CD’s blaze the trail down your street and fashion laughter in the backyard. When I feel connected to cities, and the earth opens up and I fall in- I feel a part of everywhere. It’s a candid kiss on the cheek, a wrap-me-around-your-waist-and-never-let-me-go sensation. A musical choir of voices to greet a wintery morning. It’s rising past noon in a glow of yesterdays child’s play. A harmonica’s melody bouncing off the walls and into my chest like cosmic explosions. It’s the imprecise and going from young to old. Truthfully, it’s like the perfect cup of coffee and upon my soul, I feel a part of everywhere.
