He’s entering the woods as oft before,
And still his heart is thumping, resolute,
This path has been the backdrop to his more
lucid revelations, thoughts astute.
The crunch of long-dropped pine cones underfoot,
Reminds him, well, that feral denizens,
inhabit near, ‘neath torn-asunder roots,
Darkened dens where life begins again.
He’s witness to a symphony, the strains
his sense invades; canned laughter caught on tape,
This realm (distinct, unique and new) remains
his sacred place; no need to plan escape.
For he is one with Mother Nature’s best
And here, his deep-most secrets unrepressed.
Written in response to this week’s Studio 30+ prompt! using the phrase “canned laughter”.
It has been a while since I last entered this challenge, and I’m glad to be back, amidst such a talented group of writers.
I have indeed always found nature to be quite loud… seems like you do too!
For those who choose to listen:). Thanks for you comment, it’s greatly appreciated.
A lovely description of the inspiration nature provides.
Thanks, Tara. I love Spring and just being able to get out into the woods or on the beach again, camera in hand, of course.
I know exactly what you mean. So grateful for the return of warm weather.
Thank you, Laura. I do love sonnets, writing them and reading them.
Thank you! And thanks for stopping by and leaving a comment.