when places merge and you meet yourself among the grass where you didn't think to ever look, for that is what happens to the self. at times, it is too scared, of itself, to actually surrender and speak, often the self is speaking but the self isn't listening to that voice within, it is listening to the devil angel duo on their shoulders, for the outward bound voices are more intriguing, or simply just louder. there is a place, in nature, when that piece of you - the piece unheard, goes to rest. while there it wakes and is suddenly wondrous and adventurous and suddenly not so scared in their entire selfless self and there in nature is where you will reconnected with the pieces of you scattered in the fields and in the oceans and among the flowers waiting for you to notice yourself.
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