Francis loved his birdies. 
It’s a new day, so I’m going to write some new words brought on by some new thoughts. It’s fresh outside, if you believe it. Do the birds care what month it is? Do they know the day of the week? They don’t keep track of time, but they know it, and act accordingly. They flitter and fly to live and dive from tall trees down to soft grass. Watching them makes me believe that they always see the world as new. I want their perspective. I want a smaller brain, if it’ll afford me more appreciation of the simple things. I want simple. Simple and beautiful. It’s newer today than yesterday felt at around four or five in the afternoon. It’s different. There’s a temptation to treat this day like it’s a dime a dozen, but that’s a surefire way to waste a lot of living. Treat every day like that and you’ve gone on to throw a lifetime to the dumps. I’m breathing today, and I’m grateful for the air. Expand my lungs and expand my perspective. I want to see more of God. I want to know He sustains my life. With every breath I believe that I’m new. Newer than yesterday, and better because it’s fresh outside and I believe it. I hear birds chirp then dart passed my window. They’re like my thoughts, but they are simple and beautiful, unlike my thoughts. It’s still early today, there’s plenty of time to have new words flitter through neuro-pathways and restore beautiful structure to the mess of my mind. Make me simple again, God. Make me pure and innocent. It’s a new day, so let me find hope in that.

...ramble on...

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