Today, I had an afternoon walk through a tunnel of cherry trees.The scent of their surrendering silky red blossoms surfing the calm spring breeze tantalized my nostalgic nose. It brought me to the old wooden bridge, where we first scarred our skin, as we jumped from the rocks and went for a swim. The cool and clear stream slowly flowed and mumbled, polishing the rocks that we scanned with our feet. We paddled like dogs to stay a float. After hours of splashing and laughter we ventured further. With damp hair and soaked knee-torn blue jeans , our exhausted legs followed dirt paths to hidden fields of enclosed sun dried pastures filled with straw-like grass that softly whipped at our waists in the wind. The echo of its emptiness consumed me with a sense of gratitude, as we found ourselves laying below the grass playing pictures in the sky. The cotton clouds promised this day to be everlasting. For a moment I had sunken into the soft soil as the bowing blades buried my cares. The silent stories we shared in this field could only be told in a whisper to others. To speak any louder would spoil the tranquil condition that this secret place had ensued. With the breathiest tone, I will french kiss the wind in this tunnel of trees to spill a soft secret. Sharing the whereabouts of a turquoise sky and a golden field for another lucky few to stumble into. So that once more this beautifully bewildering blunder could grace another skeptical heart and create life through peace.
Joshua Tool – 04/1/2009