Posts Tagged ‘natural’

The Sun climbs, each day,

over some unseen Hill.

Ascent warms the Land- then-

Descent brings a chill.

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It’s funny how childlike and innocent my perception of the world, or at least the Natural world, becomes at the beginning of each season.

At the start of winter this year the snow was falling so lightly I thought it was almost dreamlike. Then winter got old. People began to grow tired of the now, especially as the weather turned foul. I tried to maintain a positive outlook, trying to see the beauty in storms and the whiteness of everything. But the sad thing about winter, when you get older, is that the season kind of loses it’s magic. You find you’d rather stay inside. I tried going out into the snow once. I only ended up being outside for fifteen minutes. Maybe the magic is also gone because fifteen minutes can feel like forever when you’re a kid.

Now winter grows into spring, and I find myself smiling as I step into a puddle by accident. I feel happy being able to see green plants now- tree branches no longer covered by snow. But I’m wondering how long this fascination will last. As a writer, observation of the surrounding world is important, but there’s this nagging sense that what I observe will get tiresome eventually.

I guess that the best option is to try and keep an open mind. To observe the changes that happen, and try to find the beauty in the heat waves and thunderstorms to come.

Wish me luck, and stay tuned!

Wind takes the lead-

I follow. Arms- flutters

of snow- guide me

 

to and fro

with the bending of pines.

I feel warm in this cold place.

 

Nature is strong. I do not mind

following. I step in time

to winter’s music.

Snowflakes are more children

than they are crumbs of bread,

twirling in their pointed skirts,

and tying a bonnet ’round Earth’s head.

I wish there was a place I belonged.

Where I could escape the screams,

escape the judgement

of eyes widen and staring,

or, thin as worms, glaring.

I wish there was a place I belonged

for even among friends

everything I say is counted against me

with angry exclamations,

or approved with subtle laughter–

not the roaring guffaws

they make after each other’s comments.

I wish there was a place

where I could listen to music that moves,

rustles the long grass blades of my mind,

not this mindless drivel

driving its guitar riffs against gravel vocals.

I wish there was a place where I had friends

who wished to go where I wished to go.

 

I feel the wind on my face,

it caresses, tugs my clothes

and pulls me toward the heart of the forest

near the hills behind my home.

I’m alone.

The sun beats overhead.

For now, I’m where I belong.

Here, in this quiet focus of the natural, blue, green,

and yellow world. It speaks in whispers.

I belong here.

Alone.