Misty Hills
The misty hills beckon, Shrouded in mystery, Breath of the earth, Intangible history. The spirits dance lightly, Woven in fog’s warm embrace, Nature’s soft laughter, Filling each vacant space.
Underneath leafy canopies, Softened sounds of the wild, The heart of the forest Cradles nature’s child. Among the whispers and hush, The world fades from sight, And in this moment, Everything feels right.
- Richard Huelsenbeck