In my next life, or maybe it was my last life, I want to be that first bird that starts singing her heart open and true in the dimming morning light before dawn.  I want to wake up thrilled at the smell of the sweet earth, excited to be alive, all my tiny antenna bones vibrating with the brilliance of spring.

No human story of tired bones, arguing voices about too many useless meaningless tasks, showering, packing, remembering, planning, shopping, organizing, notes, duties.  The stories are so captivating–as if truth.

Yes, let me be a pre-dawn herald, with the All of me calling to the world for raucous celebration, shaking up every neighbor to a new day.  “Wake up!  Wake up!  We’re on earth again!  It’s so beautiful!  You’ve got to see this!  Wake up!”