I traverse the bog land and the heather groves, in a meandering search for where the wind blows;
As the clouds get dull, and the sky grows ominously dark, I gather by the tree side and rest upon the bark;
My pack, heavy on my shoulders, I lay down on the mossy rock place; As the rain trickles down and creates a misty spray against my face;
I huddle down making myself protected as the rain becomes fierce and strong, my mind begins to wonder…did I do nature wrong?
As if by a magnanimous reply, I spot a cloud clearing in the far off sky;
The sun throws off its shroud and reveals once more the warming light of the day.
I reason the time is ripe for me to be on my way.
I gather my belongings and glance at the mountains and valley that lie ahead.
And I embrace the blessings of nature, knowing there’s no where I’d rather be instead;
For the clay under my feet and the prestine lakes of water pure, fill my senses of touch and sight; all seems in prefect order once more;
I listen to the warbling sweet sound of the birds and the rustle of the leaves on trees – I breathe a lung full of air to restore my bodily senses with such ease.
To be nurtured by nature is to be soothed as a parent to a child;
In this peace and serenity is where my spirit shall long reside.