How important is the quietude of nature to me?
If I cannot have a piece of land to live the rest of my days on,
in seclusion from the hurtful parts of the world,
my spirit will diminish, and my heart will break.
Nature keeps me from anguish and despair.
It is as vital to me as the air I breathe, the blood in my veins, or the water
that preserves my life.
My roots need soil to steady myself.
My skin desires leaves to brush lightly upon it.
My peach-fuzzed face needs a fresh breeze.
It's always been this way inside of me.
As if, born starving--the pursuit of nature
is all I've ever needed to fill and sustain me.
I feel kinship with plants, trees, and animals.
The forest is a cure to my pressing need for respite,
where I am ultimately comforted in serenity.
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