A Quiet Place
When seeking a respite from the city,
I turn to Nature's calm and tranquil ways.
And go to a lake that's beyond pretty,
a quiet place to camp for a few days
while I relax, soaking up the sun's rays.
For the primal pulse of Nature, for me,
beats in the rugged mountains: still serene.
There, I readjust my reality,
to fit places, pristine, peaceful, and green;
where Nature cuts my strings and sets me free.
A babbling brook mutes anxiety's voice,
granting quietude to my troubled soul.
City life is a necessary choice:
yet it's like I'm in a bottomless hole,
with little hope of ever feeling whole.
I love hiking in the old-growth forests,
surrounded by tall, centuries-old trees.
Nature needs no gardeners or florists:
and I get to shout as loud as I please,
communicating with the birds and bees.
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