Just Open Your Sense Doors

This week,

I saw an eagle fly really low.  Under a thick canopy of trees.

It was mesmerizing.

I listened to the rhythm of rain drops.  On the glass rooftop of my conservatory.

It was a harmonious melody.

I felt the weight of my worn out blanket.  On my tired shoulders.

It was tranquilizing.

I smelled the autumn air.  Out there in the forest.

That grounded me.

I tasted the pear.  In my season’s salad.

It was delectable.

This week,

I met my life.  In all its beauty.

By just opening my sense doors.

With my apologies to Descartes,

I sense, therefore I am.