I lay back on the hard ground and pull a blanket of stars over my cold body. I shiver and then lay back, still. A warmth from deep within stirs, enlivens. I listen and hear the creaky voices of frogs singing a welcome song of spring. I look and see stars shooting across the sky and satellites and a lone plane blinking red in the inky black new-moon night. I take a deep breath and feel the earth move beneath me. I close my eyes, enveloped in an ancient knowledge unnoticeable most days, most lives unnoticed. I am, we are, going to be alright. Always have been, although we often don't think it. Always will be, only not in the ways we have been told to think. But yes, we are going to be alright. In the steady ways of a river. And the swirling ways of wind. In the sparkling ways of fire. And the dark ways of night. In the fleeting ways of dreams. And the mysterious ways of the universe. And in the deep, deep ways of the earth.
by David LaFever