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Josephine Wild Aug 2023
be right here
in the mountains,
running on dirt trails,
lying in the green grass,
feeling the gentle cool breeze,
admiring the rainbow of wild flowers
and the little birds fluttering up in the trees.
Where I want to be
Josephine Wild Jul 2023
I’m having fun
with no rhyme or reason.
I’m just chilling
in the sunny season.

I’m keeping pace
where wild flowers grow.
I want to go fast
when I need to go slow.

But I’m running swiftly
to fill my desire,
until a rock causes
my momentum to expire.

I’m instantly frustrated,
but I don’t dwell long.
Within my power
I choose to carry on.

The trail continues
where it seems to end.
I journey further
and I find some friends.

Where the the rushing stream pauses,
I take the plunge.
Frigid water
freezes my lungs.

I too, find reason to pause,
and I bask in the sun.
The world stands still
and I wonder why I run.
Reflection on a trail run down to the mouth of the stream where it rushes to meet the river.
I adventured to the woods by one of the middle schools in my small town. Krueger outdoor environmental science center. It was towards the beginning of the end of a normally lengthy winter so there was still plenty of snow to cover most of the ground.
Plenty of birds talking in their chirp language and plenty of rodents footprints from playing in the snow that covered the wooded foundation of earth. I found my way to a frozen little pond where it comes just off the creek to its own little basin of water. I slid on the solid ice and had my fun just like the free little bunnies, squirrels, and whatever land animals resides in these beautiful woods. I could tell they had their fun on the ice play land too because I could see the image of their tracks imprinted in what snow was laying on the face of the ice. There’s a decent sized dam at the start of the trail right next to the creek I was walking, what a relaxing view it was with the sound of the water rushing down it like a waterfall to the continuing side of the miles long creek. I came to a little divot in the trail where a small slanted hill dips down into the creek and it’s chilled water. I sat here on this hill to write this piece while the sun shines down directly on me keeping me warm and comfy while writing. Such a peace defining moment where you get to notice every little detail of the extraordinary nature life we’re given to observe and experience. The way pieces of tree bark, little sticks, leaves, and sediment float atop the creek water going whichever direction the drift carries them. The smell of damp dirt as I rubbed my hands in it to remember what it was like to be a kid and not care to play in the earth. More so just to be human, to be a mammal and bring myself one with the crusted surface and connect with the earth that homes my body and soul. There was a huge doe and buck playfully frolicking across the creek side I was sitting from; I only noticed them at first because they made their loud exhales of breath to communicate they were there. Either that or they were just breathing so heavy from playing and running for so long with each other aha. They must’ve knew I was friendly and wanted to give me a sight to look at and what a euphoric moment it was to enjoy the picture of them playing together. I went to get a closer look at the water and maybe dip my hands in it. I failed to notice how muddy the hill was and almost lost my footing in the sludge as I went down and barely escaped taking a swim in the freezing cold creek! While I was at the bottom of the hill I washed the mud off my hands from catching myself by palming the grime and not letting myself slip down any further. I know the birds got a kick out of watching me struggle not to take a dive into that ice cold water that I was so frantically trying to stay out of! =‘D I had to drop my phone just to stay on land and when I picked it up I noticed there was mud all over the casing of it! I wiped it off on my sweatshirt that I had already gotten mud all over the sleeve of from plunging to my elbows and hands and just kept writing. Or typing, whichever you want to call it on these cellular devices. After I sat there and soaked in the moment that nurtured my indulging senses for a while I simply got up and continued to the end of this trail. Then I back tracked through the trail and took some more time to go ice skating in my normal shoes. I followed my own footprints back onto the trail that I veered off of to find the little frozen over pond and went for a jog back to my warm cozy home and published this piece of simple writing explaining my adventurous and funny morning I had. Never forget to do this when you have free time from responsibility and the reality society in America has created for this generation. Explore your youthful intuition and let nature be one of the best friends you could ever ask for!
Nature walk in the trails of the wild things’ home
chitragupta Oct 2021
The sky exploded red that evening
as the sun descended on the valley
and in the silhouette
I remember
the oil lamp lit up by her door

With cold winds and tired legs
I made it up the stony trail
and through the fatigue
I remember
her little hut puffing chimney smoke

A simple meal to fill me,
a fire to remedy the frost
and in the light of the flame
I remember
her eyes adorned with a desolate shine

Night fell soon after
stars danced in the naked sky
and as the moonlight kissed the peaks
I remember
her warm hands subtly grasping mine

On the morrow
we said our farewells
but as I started my descent
I remember
a sudden pang of insoluble woe

and I rushed back
the path of green and stone
with all the nerve I could muster
I remember
leaving a letter in a makeshift envelope

As often as I was entitled
I found myself back in the lone hamlet
as if to keep an unspoken vow, every time
I remember
her eyes of sadness, her smile of greeting

until the day we broke tradition
for there was no familiar face
where the trail ended
I remember
the cruel north wind cutting me open

A decade since,
of prayers to false gods in prodigal shrines
and with eyes shut
I remember
her hair billowing before the winter snow

In the monotony of city lights,
of skyscrapers and street neons
rising cigarette smoke up in the sky
I remember
the dance of the stars, the warmth of her hold


Every time
I dare go up the hill since
and gaze at the empty summit,
These memories seem to keep waning

So as I move across the highway this time
I remember
to forget the trail route to heaven.

love is not multi dimensional.
its just a multitude of single dimensions.
Nikkie Jan 2021
We never have the essential answers, to the questions in our daily lives.
God takes the lead and remains in control.
God touches our hearts beyond wishes untold.
I know you’re hurting so very much; I want to help but I don’t know how.
This storm of yours is barreling toward you; sweeping you up and spinning you within.
You hide behind your strength for others;
but you my friend need someone too!
I can’t imagine, in my wildest dream the intensity
of your pain; the complexity of your damaged will!
To lose so many whom you love so dearly, has got to be
robbing your emotion.
When your insides feel like a drowning sorrow,
When your days and nights regret tomorrow,
When your eyes tear up behind their sockets,
(because you refuse to let your feelings show).
When you just don’t want to be the “old” you,
When you can’t see yourself making it through.
When you just can’t seem to gain any control.
When you feel like giving it all up for good,
When your pain and hurt is misunderstood.
Always remember what I am saying.
Dearest friend in “my whole wide world”,
Our Heavenly father is right by your side.
We have our pain and rock hard endings.
We have our trials and tribulations.
We have our moments of dis-repair.

We have our moments when we just don’t care.
But you serve a God who is all around you.
Holding you close in your raging storm.
You may not see it; you may not feel it.
But God is standing faithfully behind you;
waiting for you to Trust him and fall.
Mystic Ink Plus Nov 2020
What would you do?
If you are
In the journey
To nowhere

But nowhere
Had been your home
And nothing
Still means

Genre: Abstract
Theme: Expectation
annh May 2020
t r a i l s
of light-glazed ephemera
w      a      f      t
from plain to hills;

*G i l d e d*
grams of silken
warm with pine
and noon.

p i t t e r - p a t t e r s ,
D a N c E  S t E p P i N g
the length
of a polo field.

‘Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that
I love - that makes life and nature harmonise.’
- George Eliot
When you think I've left this earth,
Look closely and you'll find that I'm still here.
I left a trail, ink, blood, tears, smiles and of lead.
My blood made of ink and pencil lead will not allow me to be dead.
My blood inked many of a tear, some on my behalf as well as what others did fear.
My blood inked many memories that made me smile.
So when in doubt follow my paper trail and you'll find me there. ~SacredInkedBlood 05/08/2018©
Kanishk Kandoi Apr 2020
The lightning in the sky reminds me of you

Just the nights we spent and the fun we had as two

The rainy days where we stayed home and shared our love

How we made up things better even though they were tough

I might’ve just felt so lonely when u left

It was as surprising as the our sun rising from the west

At last just wanted to say that everything reminds me of the time we spent

And the way you passed me leaving those beautiful trails of scent
this poem is about a person who had a lovely time with his loved one and how that loved one had once left him without any trails and without any reason, as a surprise.
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