Reflections

The joy of being alive..

Sometimes.. there’s this peculiar feeling.. 
 
to just feel every thing that is around.. 
the patches on the wall, 
the pillow cover, 
the heat of the afternoon and the flow of cool air from the fan intermingled, 
the worn out wood on the side of the table, 
some dust on the windowsill, 
without touching, just feeling it.. 
 
to just listen to the everyday sounds 
the sound of the fan swirling, 
a bird chirping, 
a child crying somewhere, 
the sound of a train passing nearby..
just listening it all completely..
 
Nothing more, nothing less..
Just feeling it all as it is,
losing myself in it..

Just a simple joy..
The joy of being alive..

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