Waking up in your wanting arms, at peace with the world and all its sorrow, I head on home.
With the feeling of your warmth still surrounding my now covered body, I hit the road.
The wind catches me, carries me forward, caressing me with every breeze.
The sun's early rays touch me and pull my eyes towards the sky.
By endless blue skies I am greeted, without a single smudge of white
Stretching across the oncoming fields of beautiful lushious green.
The trees reach for further heights, their green leaves creating a beautiful contrast.
Narrow dirt roads lure me deeper, leading me away from your world.
The deeper I get, the happier I become.
No screen can show the colors I see, stretching across the largest panorama
Creating a vision no painter could capture
No surround system can give me the sound of a hundred birds singing in perfect harmony,
Creating a symphony no orchestra could play.
Nothing can mimick the scent of a thousand flowers, stretching across the biggest fields,
Creating an atmosphere no candle can make.
In beds of flowers will I lie, in fields of grass will I find my sleep, in the shades of trees will I find myself.
This is the world that is real to me.
No map to show me the way to my happiness, no traffic lights to stop me on my way.
No wars are fought here, no battles are needed.
If silence is what you seek, this is not the place for you, for there is sound in everything.
Yet these are sounds that will make you forget about silence.
This is the sound of tranquility.
There is sound in the leaves, rustling in the soft late summer breeze.
It's in the birds, singing in a language no human can understand, but the heart can appreciate.
It's in everything you see, if only you take the time to listen.
There are no standards here, nothing to judge you for anything you are.
Nothing to stop you from who you want to be.
No one to tell you what you can or can't be, no boxes for you to be put in.
It's just you and nature, at peace with the world.
This is the world that is real.
Whenever I leave my world, I find a world, harsh and cold, twisted by so many of us.
Most leave my world and say, this is the real world.
This is not the world earth had in mind for us, this is the world as we made it.
We made it fit our needs, our standards, as we do with ourselves.
We create unrealistic expectations, only to be disappointed by the fact that they were unrealistic.
We knew, yet didn't care.
One can hope, one can dream, but we forget what life's about.
We focus on everything we think we want and need, and lose touch with ourselves.
In my real world, I reconnect.
I found myself in fields of grass, I found my peace between rows of trees, I found my heart beneath the deep blue skies.
In my real world, I found everything.
YOU ARE READING
Between summer days and thunderstorms
PoetryThese are poems, it's not a book! These short ones come from the dephts of my heart, and reflect what I go through. Some days are harder than others, as they are for any of us. I use my fantasy to write about it, and numb the pain a bit. I hope you...
