A mist hangs over the morning like a curtain of white, The cool air rolls across my skin, Bluebirds twirl in the air above my head, A feeling of joy overtakes me, As I move deliberately toward the rolling river.
The white-capped river churns with a newness, Refreshed by rains of the night before, It roars as if announcing its rebirth, The mist bounces off its waves, With an energy that fills the air around it.
This morning I am like the river, Refreshed born anew and looking toward the horizon, Roaring with energy, Ready for a new beginning.
The forest teemed with life as we elevated further into the dense wilderness. Golden Eagles and Osprey soared above the canopy while red squirrels and chipmunks darted between the vegetation on the forest floor. As we climbed, the sweet smell of pine and birch trees drifted gently upon us. In the distance, the azure sky began to cloud, and golden beams of heavenly light descended from above. We climbed each step, becoming heavier on the legs and lungs as we hurled ourselves up the mountainside. Upon reaching the precipice, I strayed from my party and stood alone atop the mountain as I looked down at the mighty sea, endless forest, and soaring birds and found new meaning to the word peace. As we descended, the clouds turned a cream color as that light began to fade, and I observed that perhaps the path to oneself could be found in a forest wilderness.