What more can I ask for?

The summer sky is swelling, engorging through my window, pressing down on my head.  The sun's rays are yelling for me to go outside, but where is there to go?   What more can I ask for?  I can ask for peace.  I can ask for a subtle gentle life to grab my finger tips and wrap them around a warm mug.  I want the walls of my home to fall down and allow me to consolidate with the atmosphere, creating an easy flow of energy, tree poses pointed upward real good into the summer stars.  The world has become such a hard place.  One in which the atmosphere works against me, not with me.  I feel suffocated from the trees waving at me from outside, as I know that I also have a firm handshake pulling me from inside.  Coffee cups are rigidly spilling drips onto my button-down, my face forming wrinkles as my eyebrows slant downward.  I can feel the gravity of the situation pulling at the sides of my lips, frowns so frequent now that the dry skin surrounding them takes on a new permanent residence.  Since when was I the human being working against our natural ways?  Since when was I the human being who taps her foot on the beautiful white beach, unable to listen to the sound of the waves crashing upon the selfless shoreline?  This has got to stop.  What more can I ask for?  To become one with all that surrounds me.

To be the resting bird, not the foundation of my decaying home.