Life Touches All

Oft times I have wondered where the prose began, where it come from; as it triggered my mind to reach this line of thought?

Situations in life count for most of the emotion that flows through my veins, touched by gossamar threads of the lintel that evokes actions in retalation of all that is life.

Does the winged bird percieve my thought process as he flies on comfortable thermals, or perhaps the last drop of dew that fades as morning sun permeates awakening earth?

Ah! silence is ebbing prematurely; struggling to hold as life's sounds succumb to birth,
rich for a time and half a time, until the passing place widens allowing each its own.

Gradually one withdraws as the other emerges, no evident line between,
inevitably.... life touches all.