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In a smooth silhouette, I watch the grass whistle , as it waves like a river just beneath my view. I stroll past the motion of the fast nimble river and witness the dance of the low jumping drops. As the water plays with the rocks, my sight shifts to the needle-covered ground of a towering pine forest. A small lonesome bird flies off with a small branch in its beak, its wings gliding in a flowing line through the chaos of the forest. As gentle as the stroke of her feathers, she softens the primal touch of the woods. but as the bird flies off, the woods harden and the sharp edges of the reality look closer than they did before , but then the bird turns, and the brightness in the forest again awakened, showing me her sweetness, her wisdom her softness, and made it recognize those very thing in myself. I love this bird and even though I know that her presence might not be for too long, I enjoy every moment of her calming and enchanting presence, and I would hate for her to leave again, for there the forest would be so sweet no more.

In some way she is my softness, and she is my rest, she is my wisdom,
she holds my chest......