  Isn't there anyone in this world that knows what I know? The world isn't a huge ball floating in space, but billions of tiny worlds walking past each other daily.
Love is not a feeling, but a tangible BEING. Pain is relative and real for everyone. Songs exist in you and want to burst forth on glorious wings. Does anyone out there in the wide world feel what I feel? A breeze can massage your body in cool whispers if you reach out and let it.
The sound of rushing, falling, tumbling water can pump like blood to and from your heart. The smell grass, pine needles, and damp dirt is the smell of life. Can anyone out there in this echoing chamber sense what I sense? That though I feel alone, I am not. There is something that touches the part of me that most people can't see. But, you COULD see it.
I know you could. Feel, touch, and taste it, too. It's there for the plucking like ripe, juicy fruit. It is golden and alive. It lights the air, peeks behind flowers, and floats on a baby's laugh. I don't know what it is and I don't care to know, only to speak of it, acknowledge the existence and share. That is enough. 
