The escape to tranquility,to waters rushing and still,to the calm of spacewhere water meets sky:the unspoken whisperof past and futureblurred into one present.Alive in tree roots,polished rocks and wrinkled pine needles,the landscape revitalizesdead souls,calls home life's warmth,and echoes a hopethat reverberatesunder my rib cage. I wrote this poem for the Wea’ve Written Weekly prompt #167.Continue reading "Tranquil Scape"
