meditation on light and mud

missing from even the most elegantly and artistically lit rooms is the piercing eye of natural light that -- whether pure or bright or filtered through clouds or reflected by car doors or refracted by rain -- understands the underdeveloped fancies of the soul. one step beyond the door and it feels only cold and chill on that day where we expect spring but don't quite find it to be quite ready yet. three steps more and even the brown and muddy grass looks cleaner. a block away and even the confused clouds, thick and steady with the resolve to stay put, curl at the edges to let sunlashes blink down. outside and naked to the open world, the free air space beyond my fingers and over my head, here might be rain or dirt or bark peeling from trees, but i can walk and be free and move like creativity through unrestrained time so as to fashion pleasure and mediate peace. a co-creator, spirited, putting footprints on God's good earth.