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Restfulness
October 24, 2018
Sitting on my back porch
I noticed all of the little
Pieces of brown paint peeling
Off the old, weathered wood,
When the sun begins to come up it
Exposes all of the little sparkles
Of morning dew making the grass,
Trees, and old spiderwebs glissen,
The blue cloudless sky merges
With the red sun rise
The air is warm and humid
I breathe and take in the
Wet smell of dirt
I can hear the birds chirping from
Their nest deep inside the trees
And bushes that are starting
To change is to fall colors
It still feels peacefully silent
This is tranquility
© Crystal S., North Branch, MN
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This is a meditative poem. It was written one early morning while I was sitting on my back porch.