There’s a low threshold for unlimited joy. However,
it’s always better when I wake up we’ve landed. 
I was just there, then a few rain forest elements form solid bands incised to now-text or a minute from now-text.  
Striking the bell, lightening round..   
 
Brightness gushes out, but forest living is euphoria-through-turbulent-process, your early morning critique. It’s tight. So tight. What happened? Diagramming conditions of jitters and others’ waking, I am anonymous either way.   
 
Before the mist rolled in I felt your grace, your holding the threshold with both hands.