She is trying to speak to you.
Gentle crashing of the waves,
Whisper wonders in your ears
As a light mist brushes across your face.
Why must we make it so complicated?
Life that is,
So wrapped up in the now
We tend to forget how beautiful our own voices sound
I much prefer the ambiance.
The gentle whistle of leaves flowing in the wind,
Or the rhythmic ticking from the blades of my fan.
It transcends me to a place deep within my mind,
Far, far away from societies tiresome,
No horns blazing
No tempers flaring
No one trying to control me all the damn time.
No children crying,
No fathers dying,
Just me, myself, and I.
This is living.
This paradise transcends beyond the mind
It is here,
Right in front of our eyes.
If we can just listen
For she’s within reach,
Playing her song of tranquility.
She needs no hollowed instruments.
She only needs our hearts,
To transgress us into serenity.
Venice Renee-Lynn Hughes