Tranquility’s Call

Trees shrouded in the morning mountain mist

That wafts mysteriously, elegantly to pick out

Straight, mottled trunks that turn elevated, dew laden leaves

Into a translucent, miasmic, dreamlike whole. 

 

Fantasy fetches petite fae, mystic creatures living there unseen.

Opaque lacy wings flitting silently ‘neath low lying ferns.

Until the sunlight, softly employed to dismiss the mist,

Must discharge creatures of imagination from mind’s eye. 

 

A human soul, speeding by enwrapped in sturdy steel,

Sends out an unheard, mournful cry

Amidst this tranquil, elegant, majestic scene.

A wish for peace, a soul at rest. Pure magic. Calm.

 

 

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