I am lying in the dirt.  The cuts and scratches that decorate my skin from head to toe are smarting.  Dirt has never had a soothing relationship with open wounds.  I never knew that pain could feel so good.  It tells me I'm alive.  The fall did not kill me. It should have, but it didn't. I am alive.
I don't think I've ever appreciated the smell of the air so much. It's sweet on my nostrils.  On top of that, there are few other words besides 'glorious' to describe the way the sun feels as it tenderly encircles my wounded body. I could lay here forever, and never get tired of this feeling of being alive.
I don't think I can stand up yet, but it doesn't bother me.  If I stand up, then this moment will pass. It's not that I'm opposed to the idea of this moment passing, because one of the most beautiful parts about life is that moments do pass.  But I just am not ready yet.  Just a little more time, being cradled by the sun, and caressed by the breeze.
Just a little longer.  I will stand, I will walk, I will run.