"When life seems tough, nature becomes the silent healer—calming the mind, soothing the soul, and reminding us that even storms pass."

Have you rested
on an old blanket
‘neath the big pine trees
feeling a warm breeze
and the ****** and dips
of the needle-laden ground?

Have you eavesdropped on the birds
as they gossip
woo
brag
calling amongst
the sticky pine needles?

Have you spied on the ants
on their no-nonsense march
or counted wispy clouds
that lazily float by
laying on your back
on a scratchy, faded blanket?

Have you ever marveled
at the wide, wide blue
that’s neither near nor far
feeling time pause
under pointy branches
lost in restful ease
‘neath the big pine trees?

© 2025 Joan Zaruba. All rights reserved.

I watch the cottonwood
seeds
gather on the
wildflowers and
the weeds.
The trail looks a gentle
snowfall
  of dust,
Like the back corner
of grandmother's attic...
Blanketed in mystery
and
  well worn with
                   the years.
White sand and flakes of
pyrite
  glitter on the
  water's edge,
Dancing
with the rythym of the  
  waves...
A hummingbird
chases a dragonfly
into a tangerine sunset.
A hawk circles the road looking
for a wayward mouse.
I cry a silent prayer.
And can
   only
think of you,
My Angel.
And
    the
       wind
            cries
                 too...
Singing her
sorrowful song
Only for you,
My Angel,
Only for you...