Leah Brodsky
The protective trees shade me with archways of tree bark.
Footprinted pine needles blanket the ground and
A pleasant little brook appears like a water goddess.
The stream murmurs to me in lighthearted melodies as my eyes close.
The brook starts speaking to me.
The brook whispers,
The woods are quiet
Savor the cool breeze like it’s Del’s Lemonade
Listen to the orchestra of bluejays
I say,
That calmness doesn’t exist
The woods are different than city life
With tap shoed feet dancing on top of
Music blasting taxis
The brook whispers,
Close your eyes to something different.
Experience the letting go nature will bring you
And free the eyes.
So I say,
I am cooped up for too long.
I needed to get out as the couch doesn’t help
My bed’s comforter is a fallen tree on me.
The brook whispers,
Open eyes to the wonders of tranquility that sits on a lilypad.
Let go. Let your mind be.
My thoughts finally slows down as I open my eyes
And see nature in its true self for the first time of what it really is.
I see a society of solitude.
So both the brook and I say,
Seeing is believing.
Seeing is being.
The water babbles like two friends in the placid, little, crystal oasis
Within the tranquil woodland.
I stand here next to the smooth moss, with my eyes now open.