The long night has taken its toll.
My back hits the wall and I slowly slouch to the ground.
A snowflake wets my eye as the spark of a lighter brings some release.
The embers fight for attention as the trees find some peace.
The cold singes the hairs all over my body.
The black of the asphalt slowly disappears and is enveloped by the crystalline particles.
The trees crack and roll with the path of the snow.
The dim light of an incandescent bulb casts my shadow upon the turf.
The scent of fire permeates the air as I stretch my limbs and shake off some snow.
I wonder why I'm sitting here,
Suffering through the cold, and the wind, and the wet.
Why shiver when a warm bed awaits my arrival?
Why seal out the cold with thin garb, when a furnace provides all I need?
I shutter, shake, shiver, smoke, and I realize why
Because in nature all is free.
Four walls, a roof, a ceiling within this world of sheetrock and wires one is a slave.
A slave to the rules, rules of a society, rules of conformity.
As we step through a door to the outside we are brought into a world where our minds are our minds.
We are not controlled by TV or the media, but by our own will and by the will of the wind, of the world.