Stay Lost

A thick gray sky stood still against rolling green hills, with a single, lonely sparse bush cutting a stark profile into the cascading silence of the morning. I stood there on cobbled streets surrounded by the cacophony of winter glamor that adorned the neat spanish tiled townhouses veined with dark green ivy and soft red roses, gazing into that distant horizon. I couldn't help but become overwhelmed with a desire to climb over that black, wrought-iron fence that so possessively divided civilization and wilderness, and sit there with that single bush standing with such lonely courage high above the throttle and hum of humanity. I wanted to cut my own profile into the blue-gray sky that sang so still, so silently and with that lonesome bush, wonder about the mysteries of simple things, lose myself in the reverence of childhood memories cloaked and half-forgotten. I walk so closely to the discovery of such wondrous secrets that there are times I wonder if I am choosing to live this life, or am too fearful to dare and discover another.