Steady, steady,
Too easy,
The gate shuts perfectly without a whisper.
Tonight I’m a free man.
You hear me mother?
Good, stay in comatose, my time is now, and what a perfect moment to play; the moon doth shine brilliantly tonight. The street lights line the path; they glow with promise of my recent obsession, the warmth of hope. The atmosphere falls down my throat with refreshing calm. Near-dead humidity fills my lungs. Cold too, which brings me back to my task; I must flee.

My legs carry me to my destination while I wait, and envisage, the next couple of moments. It’s as if they are a machine simply running through gears to get the passenger, being my mind, to its new experience. My intense thought has trapped me in my mind. I would soon be able to breathe her in like the night air, filling me with life and promise, and taste her eager lips that send the shiver of excitement down my spine. I can’t wait, and it’s as if my body knows it too, as it does not falter in its mission.

Everything seems so beautiful when your truly happy, doesn’t it? The dead quiet street, my skittering shadow, the odd call of collapsed waves, that creature from down the street they call Petals that stares at you with its big bold eyes. I just remembered how amazing this world is. I blame the adrenaline. Every colour and every shape are coming to me now as if I had seen it all the first time, which I seem to admire more than my daily drudge and drear.

I come past the local petrol station, where the buzzing neon lights greet me, and the muted chart-toppers resonate from inside. I wonder what the late-night part-timer is thinking in his lonesome shift. I bet he’s thinking about the bills he has to pay, the work he has to do tomorrow, the woman he has to keep happy. Sometimes I wish people, including myself, could find the splendour in this world more than the chaos. It would save us of that troublesome thing called pain.

I near my objective. The adrenaline of the thrill pumps through my vessels. A smile plasters my face as I see who I came for. She stands there, like anyone would, nothing special, yet in the right light of perspective, she stands with the beauty of the world, although most people wouldn’t. I greet her with a simple gesture of a warm heart close, with limbs wrapped together; and the cool, sharp, dark air is overweighed by the warmth. Both at opposites, but both are needed to feel blessed and content; the best feeling of all.

We walk with the slight wind in our smile-ridden faces and talk of little things, and we share our laughter. We happen by a playground and our inner child beckons. We run to it and climb the awkward structure. The fact that the playground is now bathed in darkness, and the new experience, adds the excitement we had when we were juniors. She finds the highest bar to sit on while I find a lowly seat. She likes feeling taller, as I often tower over in natural stance. Of course I tease her for that. She finds ways though. We both stare up and look at the sky. Both wishing for stars but the moon is so vivid that it almost mimics the sun; and the dim luminosity of the clouds highlights its brilliance with their silver lining. Which also stirs another thought; pink in morning, sailors warning. It is pink. Hopefully not soon, the wet and I don’t converse too well. But, in true form for weather, it starts weeping down, and we rush for cover. That house will do, and we wait under the patio.

Have you ever sat under cover on a crying night and just stared out into the scene? I suggest you try it because what I see now is amazing. Even the thick smell of fresh rain with night air is enough to leave you awe-inspired. But then again, I think we miss a lot of things that we take for granted. Even this spider, skittering across the pillar to find cover, is a piece of art. How did that spider ever come to be from nothing at all? How did this scene come from nothing at all? How did this person, so beautiful, and so rare, come from nothing at all? How did I? I find that more incredible than anything else.

I look down at her now and ponder what she is pondering. I think she is also pondering what I’m pondering, and ponders herself that she is pondering what I'm pondering; so she closes in.
That first taste makes me forget all about anything and makes me, plainly, happy. We were there for a while, just sitting in a scene, logically inconvenient, but poetically beautiful, and that’s all we need. The moment is lasting in time, and so incredibly powerful in a sense of realisation. I think I’m starting to understand what it means to be happy. However, somewhere along the line, I remember that I must head back.

I get up and stretch my lazy legs; apologize for departing and burden her with affection again. I must have drifted off the side of the earth as I was quite late to get back. So I glance back over my shoulder to study my last image and set off for the journey homeward. The thoughts race around my head again and my body does its automatic work again, although a lot colder now. The rain has forgotten and left behind new puddles near the curbs and rejuvenated the drought-stricken lawns. My foot sometimes misses and sprays my leg with rainwater but I'm too cold to realise. I arrive at the usual everyday sight of my house and sneak back inside, the inhabitants still perfect in slumber. My bed seems warmer than usual and my body finally relaxes. This night was perfect.

As I struggle keeping afloat before sinking into my dreams I keep thinking of the beauty I found in the mundane. The moon, the clouds, the rain, the lights, the air, the creatures, and the people; Maybe we all forgot about that; Maybe I forgot about that...