Living Between the Lines

I am out for a walk today. The trees are brilliant green, like the rice paddies of Kerala. The wind gusts, cradling me, lifting my limbs. I am buoyant.

I am between the lines.

I do not see. I am sight.
I do not feel. I am feeling.
I do not fly. I am flight.

Leave these words.

R e a d t h e b l a n k s

Every writing conveys the same message.

In the blanks is all that is considered good, and more.

l o v e

j o y

p e a c e

r e c o g n i t i o n

a n d m o r e

You are sight.
You are feeling.
You are flight.