On some days, I just like to walk

Across the street and into the park

Contemplating life

Around me, nature is content.

Leaves swirl around my figure

The large trees sway as I walk by

The clouds darken, casting a blanket over the treetops

My sanctuary.

As the flora and fauna alike prepare for the oncoming rain

Winged seeds come floating down, puppets under the wind

The breeze picks up, as the wind howls like a brute

The first raindrops kiss my cheeks as I stare up into the clouds and smile

My sanctuary.

Thunder rumbles, lightning cracks, and the squirrels quiver, deep in their dens

And then the rain comes, buckets that pour down until they are swallowed by the soil

Providing sustenance for the sapling, but comfort for the old tired oak

And I am in the center of it all

My sanctuary.

I lay down in the wet grass as the storm passes, beads of sunshine dancing on my face

The park is life

The park is death

Thunder, lighting, chaos, and then calm arises

A continuous cycle of problems and solutions, living and dying, joy, and sadness

I wash away the dirt clouding my mind and come back to it

My sanctuary.

As I lay there, the cool, wet air enveloping me, I know that I have escaped

From the screens, the eyes, the faces, the boxes, the masks, the tests, the tears, and the pain

I get up, the mud clawing at my clothes, wishing me to stay like the host of a party

The party of ugliness and beauty that surrounds us all

And as I stare, I see the sun parting the clouds like a curtain, and my thoughts turn homeward.