by Anna Medina
The trees voice their tranquillity
Rooted so firmly, yet unconstrained.
Composed of naivety; blind to existence and its flaws.
Oblivious towards their subsistence and the life they so
effortlessly cultivate,
without sentience, purely a being that resides amongst us.
Could they perhaps perceive the envy I exude?
I yearn to experience true carelessness,
to be able to find clarity in merely existing.
Content without conscience, left undisturbed from
expectations.
Rooted. The freedom from ambiguity promised through their
survival.
The universe in its humblest form,
connected to the very earth itself.
Comments
Post a Comment
Comments with names are more likely to be published.