I lie on the grass,My back on the soft earth,Wind quietly whistlingThrough the tall oak behind meI watch the skyAnd as the clock spinsThe sky does also,The clouds passing throughOn their wayTo the rest of the worldGently waving their shape-shifting fingersAnd floating awayThe sun finishes its continual archAnd shows off its silent brilliance as itPrepares to slip below the horizonIts light piecing the rainbow on the blue canvas skyLike an enormous jigsaw thatJust like the cloudsShifts every day, then fades to blueA deep, restful blue held back by the tiny pinpoint starsThat emerge from their day of sleepAnd wink at the last of the sunThen turn respectfully again towards the moonTheir moon.Their hushed lullaby a soft glimmerAs the moon holds itself with such posture,Such presence.Carrying out its midnight duty.And as I breathe it in, I feel like one of them.Goodnight, I whisper to them.And I truly am happy to be alive.