A make my breakfast, the breeze fades …and the

A
cold winters breeze blows over my body. Goose bumps rise up my arms, the warm
coffee in my Eskimo hands is a peace of paradise

Lips
touch the outer metal ring, as I sip the warm, soft liquid in the mug. The sun
is rising over the blue mountain tops, in a spectrum of colours blues, violets
and the most satisfying oranges and reds

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Birds
sing like a choir of angels in the heaven above and the long green grass flows across
my legs with the same movement as waves would break the shores of the raring
seas

Freshness
filled my lung, smells of plants, herbs beautiful scenery. My cup of coffee
cools down as the flaming sun reaches the horizon

Flames
of my fire settle, time to make my breakfast, the breeze fades …and the heat
wave of the coals connect with my legs

Unlike
last night, I did not make a fire …I lay under the Milky Way, tear in my eyes
of the beauty that floated millions of miles away

There
was absolutely no sound, no cars, no hooters blowing or screaming people .therapy
to the soul .The wind was howling through the canyon below

Wake
up cold, fresh from the dew the night before that had sunk down from the sky,
as if to baptize me .My alarm clock …a roaring sound that crept into my soul
and made my body shiver

The
one and only …king of the jungle, majestic proud animal the deserves nothing
more that earnt respect .stretching in my blue, wet sleeping bag…Pointing my toes…And
bring my arms over my head .I give a big yawn that filled my eyes with tears

The
thought of leaving the place is so sad …this is my home, this is where the
birds sing songs of joy, and where the howling winds talk to my lonely soul in
ways people never have before.

I
want to see the angels float from the heavens through the rays of sun that shines
through the bubbly clouds, to hear the call of the lion, the sound that causes
your heart to skip a bear and your blood to pump.

I
want to wake up on the ground, where I can feel the waves of the grass break
against my body, the smell of nature that fills my lungs with pure well being

The
beauty that holds my heart, fills my memories and is therapy to the soul .the
place of miracles .My goodbyes will soon be back …as I walk, the winds pick up
just like good old goodbyes ,the grass waves back at me and the birds now sing
sad sons of longing

The
sunsets hold my heart, and soon I will return to get it back.

x

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