The sky glows deep grey today, the air cold and damp yet fresh.

I step outside to clear my head of computer haze.

I have so much, touch, leaves’ crunch, flesh.

Here and now birds chirp noisily. A man in hi-viz vest walks briskly by, fag in hand, arm vigorously swinging.

The urge to create and recreate delight opens in me vistas of sky.

May I be that still sheltering tree where birds are constantly singing.