The

The Take a deep breath.

This moment is yours.

This is naked on Kashmir. The trees seem to breathe more at night.

There was a freshness in the air, like the world was being born again.

Steam billowed from the like the world was being born again.

Steam billowed from the machine and danced up, mixing with my breath.

I rode on into the black, leaves scurrying from the tires, startled by this strange one-eyed beast.

I always wanted to remember these moments, alone on the road, the smell of wood burning

somewhere, and wet-cut grass covered what tomorrow's dew.

Fast I'd ride. and wet-cut grass covered what tomorrow's do.

Fast I'd ride, deep into the ghostly night.

Wind in my face, eyes screaming tears, blurring the sky into diamonds.

And my engine, in its symphony, became my silence.

A knife's edge to the numb world.

My blissful, blurry road. My happy Sunday, and happy Sunday.

I'm so glad you're here.

I hope you enjoyed that last poem I just read.

I thought it was a nice way to open this week's theme of nature.

The ideas of freshness in the air and wet cut grass,

and the smell of wood burning somewhere in the world. I've always

loved that smell. There is a great quote by Emerson that says, adopt the pace of nature. Her secret

...