Safe place

A little poem about a safe place I go too.

A trail with deep red pine needles to litter the ground. As the dark ground pokes around them. A winding path toward the opening. The route of the path is planted with trees, who’s tops meet in the sky. Their long peaks bend to each other’s heads, as if looking upon me. Filtering the sun with peaceful motes and shining the color of blissful leaves. 

   Here is the place I stand and sit on the earth. Inkling, like I’m the only one who truly found the meaning of life. Tucked away in the scenery, gliding out when it senses my presence. It lets its nature spill words that I hold in my hands. That bled in ink with the smell of crisp air. It whispers sweet warmth onto my skin. I am free. 

Reviews

[Lisasview]

Lovely write however really feels the the wonderful beginning for a book rather than a poem..
The words are so fabulous...perhaps if they were in verses...but that is just me commenting..
Lisa, Now in Spain

[Adriana]

Thank you, and yes it does.

[Lisasview]

Oh good does that men you are planning to write a book or short story..
Lisa

[Adriana]

I think so, I’ve started very many but never finished them. But you’re right this would be a good beginning.

[Lisasview]

Yes try it...