come with me

Someone come with me.  We're going on an adventure.  We're gonna go explore the world, and celebrate the fact that we're alive today.  We're gonna run--not walk--through life and pretend like we're seeing everything for the first time.

Someone come run around and roll through the grass with me.  Come turn summersaults and cartwheels, because living just makes me so gosh darn happy that I can't help but move around like a child.  Come sing with me at the top of our lungs, like we're exercising our vocal cords for the first time, and be amazed that those sounds are in fact coming from us.  Come run as fast as you can with me, just so we can feel with wind against our faces and feel it flow through our hair, and it's almost as if we're flying.  Come out and dance in the rain with me, and let the drops fall down your face like thousands of tears, except that they're the kind that come from joy and not sadness.  Come live with me.  Come breathe with me.  Come hear and smell and taste and touch and see with me.  Come feel my joy and passion for life.  Come with me and realize that we're alive, and that alone is something worth celebrating.

So why do we trudge through life every day like it's a chore?  As if there's nothing worthwhile in our lives anymore?  As if sometime long ago, we left behind the part of ourselves that allowed us to experience the pure joy of living.  Oh please, please come with me, see things through my rose-colored glasses.  Come with me and understand that we're alive and breathing and we made it to today, and that's more than enough.  Someone please, take my hand and come with me. . .