Slowly, quietly
I want to walk the trails I once walked,
stopping to look and listen;
just being in those places
where I once felt happy and safe.
I want to feel the air I once felt.
I want to smell the pines and other trees of the forest.
I want to feel the soft pine needles
and old leaves crunch quietly under my feet.
I want to hear the babbling brook,
getting my feet wet in the crossing,
climb the pine needled covered hill
moving deeper into the forest.
Slowly, quietly,
I want to remember
what my childhood felt like
in those happiest of places…
in the woods, in the quiet
in the peacefulness of nature.
I want to come out of the dark wood
into that little grassy area
where violets and bluets grew
in a small patch of sunlight
Slowly, quietly
I want to step back
into the cool gloom again
following the trail
to an open field
Then deciding
whether to go farther
wading through the tall grasses
or turn around and head back home.
Funny how the return journey,
even along the same paths,
always felt different,
yet, either way,
I felt hugged by the forest.
Slowly, quietly,
I want to let
these old feelings resurface,
bring me back
to less complicated times.
I want to return
to those happy places,
hoping my memory
hasn’t deceived me.
