I feel alive when
I feel alive when.. the breeze hits my face, biking in the autumn cold.
Eyes focused on the Vermont mountains, stretching wide for stories told.
Traveling down the dirt roads, thinking about how blessed I am as I get old.
I feel alive when the sun hits the trees, shines on my face showering me.
Laying in fields of green, corn that grows bigger than dreams.
Smell of fresh air and blue sky — what could be better than this life before you die?