Ripple Sunrise Crazy Fingers

Live and appreciate every taken for granted day your blessed and bestowed to be alive and living on this beautiful sacred earth..An existence of miracles where a single blade of grass possesses a universe of contemplating wonder. You can get up, and use your able legs to walk down the street. You can smell the sweet fragrance of a rainfall the night before, or dance barefoot in a field of flowers, as a gleaming sun warms your skin and lends its energy to be absorbed into your rejuvinating soul. You are fortunate. You are blessed. The only time we have is right now. Never expect a tomorrow, for it will never be guaranteed. You are however alive in this very moment. Given the chance to breathe and experience. Look up. See that ceiling over your head? Or the monitor you look into to read these very words.. Now do this for me....Look at the desk in front of you. Observe its shape, its texture, the color of it. Feel it, touch it, observe it, realize you are one with it. All a small piece of a greater whole. An object created and brought into this world for a specific purpose. Just as you are. Be conscious of the beautiful simplicity or complexity of what you have, and what the mind is capable of. This is the best gift anyone could ever have been graced with. Now knock on its surface, hear the sound it makes. Find your Rhythm. let its tone resonate through air, into your ear, and then even deeper soaking into your soul... Every plant, every insect, every pebble on this earth was created for YOU. Breathe out whilst they breathe in. Donate energy, extend the blessing. Hold it close, keep it dear. How many pink sunsets will it take to realize you are alive...? I truly believe heaven is not after we die, but this very earth, with all of its beautiful, pleasure filled FREE embracements. This is life, This is me. Here it is, all of it...right in front of you, as well. "Believe it if you need it, if you don't just pass it on"
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
-Shel Silverstein 1930-1999
This is a human hand