High on Happiness

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I lay on my back on the blanket of fallen leaves mesmerized by the maples that towered above me.  It looked as if they had drunk the sun itself, so brilliant was their yellow.

When a breeze danced by leaves would tumble down like a thousand canaries set free or like coins tossed by a god, making a sound like rain as they settled on the ground.

It looked like a painting by Monet come to life, with its dabs of green, yellow, gold and brown waltzing against the blue sky.

I watched the scene for the longest time, lost in its ocean of joy, breathing it in as the earth breathed, expanding into the sky.  It felt like a prayer whose only words were, “My temple has no walls, my child.  My temple has no walls.”

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