Authenticity

Alone among the elements
I am me.
So small amid the brushstrokes of earth;
An insignificant speck bobbing rhythmically in the sea.
Exhausted yet jubilant on mountaintop;
As free as the breeze which caresses my cheek,
Tangles my hair
And goes where it pleases.
Out of doors, out of routine, outside my head,
I can do what I was made to do:
Just be.

Buzzing with novel ideas,
I truly live.
“Pick me! Pick me!  Ask a busy person...”
Stepping into the breach to fulfil a need;
Speaking first; thinking later.
Planning projects with infectious enthusiasm;
Dragging bemused bystanders into the all consuming operation.
Drafting details, mind racing at full speed
And oblivious to all else.
Fundraising schemes an excuse for raising fun
As I thrive on unexpected challenges.

Intense purity of emotion
Leaves me awestruck in its wake.
Being at complete rest in nature
Or completely spent on productive projects,
Both bring such indescribable joy
That when I pause for breath,
I am caught up in a rush of love, of peace, of pure elation.
I am me, I’m alive and truly living.
This is how life should be.
Then in the aftermath
Waves of overwhelming feeling still wash over me.
So startling, I feel they can’t be real.
Is it actually still joy, or the more familiar tug of despair?

It is astonishing to encounter
This beauty all too fleeting.
Can I recreate that moment?
When I feel it, I will know.
I will grasp, and not let go.
Let me believe.