Irrational Happiness,

The sun is rising, I see it on the horizon, and it fills me.

I stand on the crest, on the rise, on the summit, at the top of the world.

The universe is infinitely large, and I am infinitely large and infinitely small.

I close my eyes to open them, and I see.

The baby is laughing, the child is playing, and it is joyous.

I smile to see it, what a wonderful thing, to be happy.

The winds carry it, the scent of change, and I breathe in deep.

I stand on the crest, on the rise, on the summit, at the top of the world.

The scents of the world, a deep sense of clarity, it is lovely.

I exhale to breathe in, and I smell.

The butterscotch of Ponderosa, the rain on the horizon, the scents of life, they are lovely.

I inhale, this lovely aroma of life.

The delight of chocolates and strawberries and all things delicious, I appreciate it.

I stand on the crest, on the rise, on the summit, at the top of the world.

The joys of food and the art of the chef, it is incredible.

I open my sense to this strange delight, and it is amazing.

Honey fresh from the hive, watermelon in the summer, pure water from mountain springs, it is delectable.

I devour, all that is life.

The nerves of my body twitch at the feel of the world, taking it all in.

I stand on the crest, on the rise, on the summit, at the top of the world.

The texture that makes up existence, what makes it concrete reality.

I move away to move forward, and feel the texture of the world, fascinating it is.

The breeze against my cheek, the earth in my hands, the snow falling on my tongue, tickling.

I take it all in, the concrete reality of life.

The silence of a song rings through the hall, the mountains sing, and I listen.

I stand on the crest, on the rise, on the summit, at the top of the world.

The flute, the wind, the saxophone, the river, the clarinet, the howl of the pack, the drums, the rain, music.

I silence my thoughts to hear them, and I listen.

The river gurgles, the young boy whistles, the wind rustles through the trees, the mother sings to her child.

I turn at a sound, in wonder I listen, to the haunting melody.

I stand on the crest, on the rise, on the summit, at the top of the world.

And I am irrationally happy to be there, to be alive.

I dance, for no reason.

And I am irrationally happy to dance, to be alive.

I smile, for I am.