With green on my hands
A moment of solitude–
Mother Nature and her character
surround me like a warm embrace.
The earth hums beneath me,
my heart’s pulse in rhythm with the wind.
As I take a deep breath in,
my lungs are filled with
the rich scent of pine and damp soil.
I am overflowing with the world’s color.
The individual leaves part,
and golden light spills like liquid honey
over each delicate vein.
They glisten as if kissed by the morning dew,
their edges glow in soft brilliance,
more vibrant as the day passes.
I reach up toward the foliage,
the chlorophyll staining my skin
like the memory of spring.
The reflection of the forest
rests upon the reflective lake.
The water remains still
except for the delicate ripples
that caress the shore like a lover’s whisper.
As the water dances,
a kaleidoscope of four-leaf clovers
come alive, shimmering in the breeze,
serenading me with whispers of sweet nothings
through the shades of chrysoprase.
The quiet melody of nature wraps around me,
a lullaby of arias from centuries passed.
My fingers gently stroke the water—
its coolness seeps through my fingertips,
anchoring my thoughts like stones below.
The world diminishes,
my mind grows still,
suspended in this sacred moment.
Current Issue 2026 