The River
Mist hangs low over the river, an iridescent gown that hugs her curves. Water sweeps around the bend with ladylike grace and a beauty that steals breath from my throat. Here, fear melts and anger subsides. The silence soothes my soul, sews the broken seams of my heart.
A rustle of leaves breaks the silence. Crimson feathers bleed against winter grey. My lips lift, echoes of the past stirred by the flurry of wings.
As a girl, the woods held magic. Under an ancient canopy where branches kissed the sky, reality faded and my imagination ran free. Nothing emboldened my childhood creativity quite like nature’s touch, and the forest gave life to my dreams. Faeries, unicorns, witches, and monsters – the impossible made possible with a power only found amongst the trees.
Of course, time takes its toll. Age threatens to rob me of the creativity I crave and the nourishment it provides. Life’s complexities crowd my mind, its demands bleed me dry. Yet, even in darkness, nature provides restoration. She brings me strength and peace, and in her quiet arms I feel closer to the magic I once knew. I feel closer to myself. I feel closer to God.
I want to stay here forever.
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