I stare at the trees, and I sit upon a log,
I watch the falling leaves,
as my breathe upon the air it does freeze,
and I have a clarity that I do not find in many other places,
and though I try in them I fail,
but alone in this soliloquy,
clarity it comes, it comes much more easily to me,
and time it stands still amongst the beauty,
yes, time stands still,
and there is no rush,
and my thoughts they flow much more easily,
and how quickly they formulate in the fresh air,
where I sit upon a log without any cares,
as the leaves they fall so gently and so softly,
and they float so elegantly,
backwards and forwards through the air,
a gracious fall from the branches,
as I pluck thoughts as if from out of nowhere,
and what a moment of creativity there is, amongst the trees,
in nature, and amongst its fineries,
and as I sit and I stare at the trees,
I do not care for the hustle and the bustle,
of the towns and the cities,
and my heart it is much better off,
and less pained by being there,
and filled with life’s stresses and anxieties,
and here I have more time, more time to be me,
more time unfettered by modern livings stupidities,
and its incessant bombardment of things,
that I must want and need,
and that I must scrape and work hard for,
and save for seemingly never endingly,
and I am glad not to be there,
and I am much happier here and how thankful I am,
how thankful I am in this time of simplicity,
sat upon a log, watching the falling leaves,
as my breathe upon the air it does freeze,
and here I sigh no sighs,
and here I am at complete ease,
and oh, how wonderful it is,
and how much better I feel here,
away from the towns and the cities,
yes, how much better I feel, I feel in me.