I sit alone in the dark, listening to cicadas and feeling a slight breeze creep across my arm, just enough to make the hairs perk up. Sitting in the hanging chairs on the dock at eleven o’clock at night, just allows for my body to calm and relax before I go to sleep. It is pure serene and tranquil. I observe how the blue lights on each dock are lit and move with the roll of a passing boat’s waves. My lips taste the crisp, humid, muggy, late July air. My eyes move from one end of the dock to the other. Waiting for any
I’m in a quiet and warm place. I hear a noise and noticed that I just stepped on a branch filled with color edible blueberries. I look up and see all types of edible fruit that surround these colorful trees. Crackling leaves, crunching twigs, the fresh scent of pine nuts in a rainy mahogany brown forest surround me. It feels like paradise. As I walked slow and relaxed, I can hear a deafening uproar of a mocking jay above me, a glimpse of a tiger’s gold bright eyes as he passed by me and a bright light leading me the way to the blue horizon. In my tranquil place it’s always summer. Not too hot, but just right with a slight breeze gently against on my skin. The ocean is surrounded by palm trees the size of buildings
These moments of sublime tranquility can be likened to the moments when you are all alone by yourself, watching the sunset and listening to the rhythmic lapping of gentle waves at the shore.
The experience of composing my poem all started when we went to Vista Hermosa. I got to the park knowing that i wanted to lay down on the grass where there was shade but, that didnt work out. Instead I ended up laying down on a very big rock that was located right at a small waterfall. Although it wasn't what I really wanted in the beginning it ended up beiing adaptable and fun to rest at. The reason why I was unable to lay on the grass peacefully like I planned to before was because the grass was wet and there were no areas that had shade which made my heart sank. I didnt want to risk my pants getting wet so i decided to go to a different location within the park where I started to have a liking towards. This location of the park provided
He noticed the the trees near him were brushed aside, and even some were leaning. Soon he came into contact with a small fallen tree, pressed deep into the ground. William moved around the tree and gulped once more. “This giant does not seem smart, stepping on a tree. Hopefully it’s as dumb as a rock.” The shining sun passed through the tree’s above and he listened to chirp of the birds. Then the humming. “Wait,” he said. “Birds don’t
Then, one day, a complaining voice was heard right under the bottom of the tree.The voice was complaining about the burden that he has to bear that it got to carry the heavy trunk and even all the branches of the tree.The voice also said that he was buried alive in the soil;he’s always in the bottom part that he just can’t see the beautiful nature of above earth.He complained that he just can breathe fresh air or see the how the light the moon was during evening and even how the sun rise and set.He
It’s a big field of tall wild grass. By the time i get there the sun is low enough that the rays shine along the very tips of the blades. You can see all of the fuzzy particles floating around in the wind and i imagine each one is its own universe, as vast and as big as the one i'm in. There is a stillness that makes everything seem okay, not that anything isn't okay it’s just better there. I still get that embrace in the grass , although it is much dryer than the tropics, i could never figure out why. I prefer going alone, or with my grandpa. Once i tried bringing one of my friends when i was around 10 but the only thing she could talk about was her favorite colored pencil. From then on i realized two things: one,sometimes people don't appreciate things the way they should ,and two, if you don't want to get bummed out just leave Autumn Yeller at the edge of the
In the rural southwestern part of Pennsylvania, there is a house built on the waterfall. The water flows down into the stream and echoes within the forest. The flow of the water passing through the house sends out its sounds down on to the banks below. Maybe that’s why the house was named “Falling Water.” This house was made to be something more than just a house. It gives off a peaceful vibe and the water and the nature of the surrounding environment gives of a pleasant feeling of peace.
When a person is feeling lost and refuses to express emotion they can lose themselves in nature and release emotion. Many people find peace in nature and find it easier to release stress due to nature’s relaxing and calming qualities. This poem creates a short yet sweet getaway for a reader who is unresolved or feeling unpleasant emotions.
My sister, Bab, and I hiked in the forest in serene silence as small bits of sunlight pierced through the forest foliage. Our whiskey jack flew among the trees as she sang her beautiful song while the whispering wind whistled their own tune that formed a heavenly harmony. She beckoned for us to follow; landing on a branch every now and then for us to catch up to her. We couldn’t dare to lose sight of her, otherwise we would fail our duty; our mission; the only reason for our very existence. We continued to stroll down the dirt path savoring all that nature had to offer.
The amazing scenery and beautiful combination of senses makes me shiver. As I stand there, I feel the weight of my fishing vest as it gently clings to my torso. I watch the trout calmly swim along the riverbed from boulder to boulder to escape the current. I focus deeply as I begin my back cast before releasing the fly from the gentle bend of my rod. I watch as it floats gently across the surface hoping that a trout surfaces for my fly. Here I experience peace with life, nature, and myself. I think of my deepest thoughts and solve my hardest problems. As the fly reaches the end of the pool, I cast it back to the beginning. I feel completely free: unburdened, free of stress, purely satisfied. No words can truly measure this feeling of perfect calmness and serenity. I'm at home. I'm in my nature. I cast again. The river takes my problems and concerns downstream and out of sight. This is means so much to me. It's priceless. I find the meaning to things I deeply questioned and challenge. I find acceptance and I rid myself of denial. The river helps me escape from my deepest of struggles, from the passing of friends and family to struggles with sports and school. Everything seems to be taken downstream with the current to never be seen
At the beautiful lake there are big boats everywhere around me. I see fun filled people everywhere inner tubing, fishing, and having a good time. As I get in the cold lake I feel cooled off from the cold beautiful water. Jumping off the tall brown docks over and over again into the water for fun.The very calm, sometimes rough water is where I like to stay.
When I sit in the water around me, I am in a quiet state of mind; the world stops revolving and everything is pauses. The negative things start to fade away in this moment and allows pure thinking to occur. When the candles burn out and the water turns cold, so does this moment. I allow the drain to open and as I hear the water go down, it eases the feeling of coming back to the “real world”. When I grab my towel the first thing I see is my clock, creating a rush of apprehensiveness of the bullet list that floods back into my mind of what needs to be done. Only in desire that tomorrow night I will reach the same feeling of clarity when I grab the match to light the first lavender candle.
A ways away from a town that I call home, I found a happy place. I often find myself walking through the park by myself. The beautiful trees, the way the yellow and red leaves crumple under my feet every step I take. When the flowers bloom and how it's the most spectacular sight you could ever imagine seeing, all the different colors that appear. When you breathe in and you get this smell of purity, you feel free and alive. Sometimes I like to sit on the old wooden bench where the bench frame is a little rusted, and I get rid of my thoughts and my eyes search the sky. In the winter the icy breeze makes me shiver, and the cold air I take in, is like sitting in front of an air conditioner and breathing in. Some mornings the sun beams across the sky, which is not quite blue yet, but the sun has almost fully risen. When the wind blows, it grazes over the blades of grass. Some days I just stand and take a deep breath in and I can taste the spring. When summer comes around, and the bees are buzzing, and the hot sun beats on the back of my neck, I lay on the soft grass and listen, to the birds chirping a beautiful song, and the kids playing in the park. The sky is the bluest view in sight.
I take a bite of a piece of cheese and survey the empty area of land. Usually sounds of animals fill the night, but there was nothing here, all remained quiet and empty except for me, I slowly lift a torn piece of bread to my lips as I stare deep into the darkness of the woods, when singing breaks through the silence of the night. I lurch to my feet and whip around yet still there is nothing to be seen but the emptiness. The singing stirs softly from somewhere deep in the woods, fragmented by the trunks of the trees, but it swells in volume till the woods seem to emit a glow of color. The gentle wind delicately carries the sweet notes to my ears, while a faint scent of lilac melts off of the notes. I feel myself being lured in by the incomprehensible words, but before I can take a single step forward, a flash of movement averts my attention to my right and I glimpse a young child, roughly the age of six, walking somberly like towards the threshold. I look all around me and identify more children all different ages walking through the open field. I rush to the closet child that I can reach and take hold of her arm just above the elbow, as I do so my touch instantly wakes her from her trance.