She sat there holding a seashell, a woven basket above her head, her hair flowing, one of the tresses tickling that little spot behind her ear,
Her eyelids gently closed, she sits alone, in quiet contemplation, journeying through the Universe that’s inside of her, solitude echoing off the walls around;
Each day, she would sit under the ancient oak in the meadow, listening to her seashell; sometimes she could hear the wind gently roaring from the ocean,
Leaves drifted down, and little bits of fruit began to fall into her basket, and as the days passed by, she noticed that both her spirit and the basket were fuller, sometimes to the brim;
At sunrise, and on nights when the moon was shining, she would bathe in its light; and such was this blessed feeling, she wanted to share these gifts with the world- making it a little more beautiful, nourishing the spirit, adding a touch of magic to the surroundings;
And she longed to share this life’s journey with her true love, once a girl, now a woman . . she has held her heart all along, keeping it safe and tucked away next to the bed of flowers, which she walks amongst each evening, on the way to the great oak;
To all around her, she appeared as if she was frozen in the stones of time, though there was a river steadily flowing forth from her, hence the peaceful little smile that often graced her lips.
draft for 🍃Nature’s Secrets🍃