The rustling of leaves
The singing birds.
It is morning.
The sun rising and moon setting 
seem to happen simultaneously, 
and the day dawns perfect.
For just a moment
it is both dusk and dawn.
This is where I live,
Where creativity starts,
Inspiration and fantasy are born.
This is where stories begin and end.
I am reminded once again,
and now I stay because I have to.
Someone has to tell these stories...

~m. couture