The Urge

Farmers plowing fields preparing and praying for a prosperous season
Fresh manor and dirt in straight lines stretching into the distance
Windows rolled down and wind in my hair wanting to keep driving
far to where I believe this day should take me

Sudden urge to photograph the construction workers that I pass
Dirty, sunkissed and strong taking a break seemingly unaware of
the fumes and noise a few feet away
Lives to be spoken and faces to be read

Remembering days on a lonely road hoping for cars to drive by
quickly jotting down license plate numbers just for counting sake
while the cows in the fields behind me slowly graze
on the tall green grass basking in the summer sun

Finding another urge to write all my thoughts down
on a piece of paper on a blanket under a tree in the nearby park
Dreaming dreams and feeling feelings letting them feel me
Like silk wrapped around my heart

Trees swaying staying strongly rooted to the ground
enjoying the sounds they make and really listening to them
Green, texture and composition forming a painting
through my fingertips and memory

Watering flowers until dirt is moist and life continues
like a child being nourished to grow
Bicycle waiting to be ridden on a gravel back road
to a pond well hidden by its protective forrest

Alert to the songs of chirping birds and the owl
far away maybe searching for me
Touching the ground letting it interlace and intertwine
the roots of my soul to my being

Dare to say, think and feel everything around
Except and expect nothing more or less
Give, take and understand the surrounding passion
extending to something I want to grab

Digging my toes into the dirt grabbing ahold of a branch
sharing every particle to regain my sanity
Holding on with a soft grip to stay calm
letting my feelings come freely

Letting simple things effect me like the difficult ones
learning from experience and the seeds I planted in my pot
Feeling the urge to let them grow
to wherever they need to go

Sleeping with both hands over my heart and simply smiling
being happy it still works
For tomorrow is another day with hours, minutes and seconds
that are expected to be counted and worth their while

good night