Poem.
I wander among early spring whispering trees,
where silence tells its secret tale and fears melt away.
There aren’t any bustling crowds or ticking clocks.
Just the slow breath of nature and the rough feel of bark underfoot.
Past a small, unmarked opening the world fades,
Shadows, in their own quiet way, show me how to wait.
Each footstep sparks a stray thought, Every fallen leaf offers a subtle sign that even darkness runs on a plan.
A little hedgehog scurries by, undisturbed,
as if the whole universe has eased its pace.
There’s no frantic rush or desperate need to capture anything - the stars, after all, never pause to ask my name.
Somewhere far ahead, a soft glow begins to peek through,
my home murmurs a gentle welcome with a muted light.
But right now, before any brilliant radiance takes hold,
I hold this quiet calm deep inside.