Envy her, seated quiet comfort? The rigid fixed in fashion to extend meaning. At pains, conspiring, but bent on appreciation for all things them (us?). Would that work and worry were beneficent bonds. A recourse to rigidity would arouse such hope. As is, all days tar quiet comfort an ungrateful lot.
Style myself a bard? No. At least not of the inspirational tones. No soul, no super human form will ever fill my work with joyful praise. There are sights to see, no more, no less. Connecting -- only to make of this life a lucid whole.