Somewhere beyond the hast of commerce, where noises sing rather than shout. I know of a place under a canopy of emerald leaves, haloed in the sun. Creatures come to crawl and fly, soaking the bounty growing natural.
Moments of stillness blow soft, carrying stresses away. It's a place owned by the trees, they bend to greet travelers weary of their cage.
A place I long to stroll, where summer kisses all that lives and wildness sprouts within