Those whose souls aren't stirred by -
The pleasant and slightly unsettling fragrance of fresh earth
The cold enveloping light of the moon
The delicious warmth of a light breeze on a hot summer's day

And when I say stirred,
I don't just mean some passing feeling
I mean that joyful painful yearning from the bottom of your soul
That spreads through your whole being and consumes you
For that moment - however brief,
Of spiritual bliss, if you will.

And when it passes,
You are not the same you
From a few seconds or minutes ago

You are the earth,
The moon, the breeze
The pain, the joy
The moment.

How do I write about a restless heart's
Simple plight?

So, so simple.

I only ask that you join me
In connection to the Light.