Now You Know


            You felt it on the way there; the pull, the draw. The almost, the nearly, the soon. But now you’re there, and now you’re sure.
            The trees know your name. The leaves and the flower petals fall at your feet, welcoming you with pinks and yellows and browns. The rain, as it shimmers down, whispers to you in the language of the sky from where it came, a language you didn’t know until you heard it. The sky and the rain and the trees and the flowers and the air and the dirt beneath your feet; they all speak it, and they speak it to you.
            And now you’ve heard it.
            Now you know.