Special Things

There are many things that get to me, I don't just have one channel; Like the feel of silk against my skin, Or soft, warm cotton flannel. I love to go out riding, Through the woods and fields, past streams. I love the smell of mountain air, And the sound of an eagle's scream, As he soars above the peaks, Amid the craggy splendor, Of the cliffs where eaglets nest, Safe from things that hinder. I love the feel of sunshine, 'Pon my face, shoulders and back, As it's warmth seeps deep inside my bones, As I lie in the sun and nap. I love the sound of birdsong, And the rain upon my roof; The sound the wind makes 'round the eaves, And the lonely call of the wolf. So many things can speak to me, If I am wont to hear it; Things that calm and soothe me; It's like music to my spirit.