Tag: Nature

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Wind

The wind she whispers in the night. She calls for me to answer and follow her voice. But the call remains unanswered as she continually howls and shakes the windowpanes. Because to follow the voice, one must be ready to leave the shelter and follow the path of destiny. And the shelter that provides warmth and comfort is difficult to leave, especially when one isn’t ready. But the wind doesn’t discriminate when she calls. It doesn’t stop. Because once the voice is heard, it can never be undone.


So, until one is ready to leave and explore the unknown world, the wind remains a reminder that there’s more out in the world than this little old home. But until then, I suppose I’ll listen to her howl and scratch at my insides. When it’s time, I’ll be ready.

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October

The October winds
Oh, how you call to me.
The fall comes to mind
The birds and the leaves swirl
All of the stars have aligned.
The full moon and spooky moments
All the figures are outlined
Here you are, my October.

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Magic Trees

The trees cast shadows into the night,
Stay until morning light,
The sun will rise
And all will know
For all the trees begin to glow.
These magic trees,
Give a new sense of life.
To those waiting for their chance
But tell me will the trees,
Give me a glance into the person I can be?
Or am I destined only to see the simple, yet ordinary, tree?

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A Figure

There’s this person I’ve spent my entire life searching to find. I’ve scoured the highest mountain tops and the majestic dark forests—years of my life devoted to meeting this figure. As the answer to my problems, a figure built in my mind, the problems deep-rooted that have grown around me like a twisted vine festering underneath my skin.


I traveled to the deepest of oceans and saw the beauty within the bright orange coral but never found my answer. I went to the driest sandiest of deserts, and no resolution was reached. I flew to the coldest iciest place on earth in hopes that this person resided there. But alas, my travels were futile, and I returned to my home, disappointed.


For years I thought this person was lost at sea that they were an enigma fabricated by my imagination. Until one day, I looked in the mirror as my life experience and travels flashed through my mind, and I realized the person I’ve been searching for was never in those forests. The figure was never in the bottom of the ocean because that person was always closer than I could have ever imagined. After all, I am the mystical figure I’ve devoted to my life to find. You see, I always thought the voice that called to me was out in the world, but recently I’ve discovered that I could never find that person because I was searching in all the wrong places. It turns out the solution to my problems never lied within someone else’s breath or words; it always has remained within me. And this lesson I shall carry with me for the rest of my days, to teach my children, that a mystical figure doesn’t exist that’ll fix any problem because ultimately we have to do that ourselves.

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Talking To The Moon

My thoughts are quiet as I stare into the blackness of night and don’t hear a sound. I can only see the abyss that lies ahead that is illuminated by the moon. Illuminated are my hopes, dreams, and a voice inside that calls to me. Where this path leads, I can’t be sure. It tells me never to give up on myself, and go forward in this life and forge my path to become a stronger woman. It’s a small voice, really, one that is shown only by the moon’s glow. But once it starts to appear, I know that there is nothing in this world that can stop me. Although the path is dark and bumpy at times, at least it’s the path I chose for myself. So, I guess only the future and the moon know what lies ahead. And I’m okay with that because at least I have the moon’s glow to keep me warm and light the way.

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The Waves

The waves that crash against my feet feel like a thousand butterfly kisses grazing my skin. The waves are so soft and light as they wash onto the shore. I watch as the water ebbs and flows between my toes, and I can’t help but feel grateful for this moment. Thankful to breathe the salty ocean air and feel the breeze on my skin.

I soon stare out at the lightly colored horizon and can’t help but wonder what lies behind. The clouds create shadows and wispy figures that blow in the breeze—swaying back and forth to and fro. I can’t help but notice through the translucent waves I see a pile of rocks buried in the sand. It looks tall and sturdy, but part of me wonders how something under so much pressure can withhold the waves and remain in place. I can’t help but hope that one day I will be that sturdy, that no outside forces of the world disfigure my shape. But until then, I suppose I’ll continue to watch the waves crash against my feet.

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A Saturday Afternoon

On a Saturday afternoon, I sit silently in my bedroom on the soft white carpet. I wiggle my toes between the fibers as I listen carefully to the rain as it lightly pings on my roof. I slowly begin to gaze out my bay window down at the beauty that surrounds me. The vibrant forest and the sounds of the rain ease my mind as I watch the rainwater flow down the street.  And I can’t help but feel at peace, at peace with myself and with the world. The sounds surrounding me aren’t filled with worry or fear. Instead, they possess a sign of extraordinary courage, courage so powerful, so great. Because the thunder never seems to mind who it disturbs. Instead, the thunder bangs and roars at whatever volume it deems necessary, no matter the cost to those affected. I envy that kind of freedom; to move about life being whatever one wants and not worrying about the social ramifications.

As my mind wanders, I stare into the distance at the tall daunting trees in the distance. They are filled with a quiet restlessness. I can hear them whisper in the wind, calling out to me.  Their vibrant leaves hold the secrets of the past that will one day be told to the next generation. How will these secrets be revealed, you ask? Through their sounds, because if you listen carefully to the rustling of the leaves, they bare all the secrets one could ever hope to learn. The key is to listen, truly listen to the things that surround us, instead of filling our minds with clutter. Perhaps only then will we find the peace we so desperately search for in this world.