Turning towards the trunk, touching it’s bark and lifting myself into the branches of it’s arms, wanting to be held by mother nature.
Always feeling safe and secure in their hold, not ever wanting to climb back down.
Most of the time climbing higher – out of reach, until Mom or Dad called to me to come inside.
Then holding on to a branch and inching my way out it’s length, swinging and letting go of it.
Falling to the ground, reveling in the release I found from mother nature’s love.
Not being able to penetrate this prolonged haze hanging over me I hold onto rhythms as they take me where I can play and write with my imagination on paper.
All vulgarity lies in human nature somehow, yet God has created us in His image.Everywhere people pull their shrouds tightly about themselves and areforsaken and left to lie in a muddled heap upon the ground.Leaves fall from trees and cover a precious soul, left alone in the sadness of purest emptiness.A shell containing nothing to…
Freedom allowing me to float above with careful ingenuity,tasting spirits of love and soaring with birds of flightinto moonlit evenings of gentle, kind thoughts – whilelying in beds of adoring love.
Capturing my attention early in life and holding me indefinitely with powers of fear.
