Am

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I think I am a person of great emotion... not great intellect.

That is not to say that I think myself unintelligent.

Just more interested in the temperature in the room than in how the building is constructed.

More interested in feeling wet cheeks at the tender beauty of a flower

than in knowledge of it's genus or species.

YES! Give me that scent that tickles and delights.

If I had a choice... I think I would choose this.

Or, I suppose, it might be better to be equal of both.

I wonder if being a person of great intellect

without the fire of wild abandon burning in you is easier.

It seems in some way, yes, it would be.

But how would I know? I've never visited that particular garden.


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