Where would you go?

I know the thrill of the grasses when the rain pours over them.
I know the trembling of the leaves when the winds sweep through them.
I know what the white clover felt as it held a drop of dew
pressed close in its beauteousness.
I know the quivering of the fragrant petals at the touch of the pollen-legged bees.
I know what the stream said to the dipping willows,
and what the moon said to the sweet lavender.
I know what the stars said when they came stealthily down
and crept fondly into the tops of the trees.
~Muriel Strode, “Creation Songs”

Rolling Hills

The steady fall of the rain on my window pane lulls me to sleep. Half-dreaming I realize November and its wet embrace makes me want to escape to a place where nature’s song would be loud and clear. I’d loose myself in those foggy rolling hills, and build a wooden cabin far from the noise. Tucked away from all the hurt, the pain I can feel surrounding today’s world. I’d read and write and read some more…

Where would you go if you could dear friends, when the days get darker?

7 Comments

  1. That is a wonderful poem Anyes. I think you should read and write and read some more tucked away right where you are wrapped up in the rain of the Pacific Northwest. It’s the perfect time of year to be tucked up.
    Alison

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Surinam my home country. Most preferably in the arms of a future love or just with a book and cookies in a cabin in the woods. I love winter though.. It’s like nature forces you to take everything down a notch and be closer to your loved ones.

    Like

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