Being an introvert

I am an introvert.  One of the small percentage of the quietly strange.  I am an observer of life, a watcher at gatherings, a listener to life's small whispers.

I notice the ignored.  The crickets in the prairie.  The crooked feather in the hawk's tail.  The squirrel in the underbrush.  

I lie in bed after waking to process my dreams.  I think about my thoughts.  Too much noise exhausts me.  Too much movement exhausts me.  I sleep long nights.  I nap in the day.  I drive with the radio off and the windows rolled down.

I am an introvert.  Part of a small, blessed percentage.  We are the introspective.  We are tuned into life's sacred rhythms.  We are the contemplative poets.  We are the tree blossoms that float down to the river and are rocked gently downstream.  

A small, blessed percentage in prayer for the rest of the world.

Until soon,

b.