Yesterday I went out of the city
To where the nature lives.
Where silence still exists,
And dogs run free.
In this place full of foreign life.
Me; a mere stranger trying to fit in.
I lay myself in the unmown grass,
reaching till my chin.
Feelings of a mountain range.
Free, strong, wide, calm.
A courageous beetle scouting my slopes,
A fly landing in my palm.
There are so many places to wander to,
So many countries to undress.
But I would always go back
To being a mountain range in the grass.
Jul 16, 2020
Jul 16, 2020 at 4:39 AM UTC
Yesterday I went out of the city
To where the nature lives.
Where silence still exists,
And dogs run free.
In this place full of foreign life.
Me; a mere stranger trying to fit in.
I lay myself in the unmown grass,
reaching till my chin.
Feelings of a mountain range.
Free, strong, wide, calm.
A courageous beetle scouting my slopes,
A fly landing in my palm.
There are so many places to wander to,
So many countries to undress.
But I would always go back
To being a mountain range in the grass.