The warm evening summer sun
interrupted by gentle breezes,
flowing through the trees
and through your hair.
The breeze is a relief,
the sun, though setting, burns bright.
When the wind blows,
it takes with it any sense of doubt
and any negative feelings we once had.
We stand in the forest,
surrounded by trees and bushes,
a plethora of greens and browns and yellows.
We’re barefoot, but only for a moment,
just to sink our feet deep into the soil,
root ourselves in the same dirt these trees use,
and maybe understand how they can stand so tall
in a world that doesn’t seem to want them.
I feel connected to the forest,
in the summer at dusk.
I feel as though I, too, will soon become cold and restless,
mischievous creatures will stir within me.
But there’s a beauty in the silent forest nights,
though most fear to approach the darkened woods,
those who do will find it’s calm and eternal;
it’s not out to get you, it just wants to survive.
It just wants to grow, to thrive
and as far as I’m concerned,
that’s all anyone else wants.
Beautiful
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