Feel the Breeze

Fri, 10/23/2015 - 01:09 -- shlee

Feel the Breeze

When the world starts to stare and push us around, when the work piles up and the people are rushing around, that is the best time to feel the wind move past you. I believe that when times get hard or even at happy times, we should feel the breeze as we walk on the sidewalks.
I find myself often thinking of the times when I was a young child and the great memories I’ve had so far. I think everyone that’s a freshman in college is reminiscing their childhood right now. We’re at a new stage in life, one we were expecting but still somehow catches us by surprise. We are learning how to live independently and trying to find a new place to belong without our friends and families. With all this change we look for comfort in the one thing that never changes, the past.
The memories that have come up the most frequently throughout my life are when I was playing in the backyard of my house. We lived behind a swamp so there was always a scent of muck and algae in the air and I always fell asleep to the sound of crickets and frogs singing. I would often play “make believe” games with my sister and neighborhood friends. We would pretend to be witches making potions and casting spells, or wild cats like tigers and panthers living in the tree behind our old creaky shed.
Although, even with the exciting chases around the yard, wands in hand, with my friends, the moments I stood in the grass alone on those summer days were the times I felt most alive. I’d feel the wind caress my face, circle around in my hands, and weave through my hair and right there I felt alive and as myself. I didn’t need to have magical powers or amazing strength, I just need to feel the wind rap around me and I felt safe and important and “real”.
Since I was a flower child that made houses for fairies, frolicked in the grass, and slept in the trees I thought of giving this breeze a shape. I soon got used to the idea that the wind was controlled by a god or a spirit. To this day I see the image of a human figure dancing through the sky creating the breeze. When I feel the twirl of air against my palm I’d imagine that figure was holding my hand, comforting me, and telling me to keep moving along like that never ending breath of air.
Though as I grew up my naps in trees decreased, that bright green grass turned itchy and brown, and the tiny fairies hiding in the trees became annoying bugs that liked to make me swallow them. As I got older the magic in the world slipped away and reality cloaked my brain. But even in this reality that breeze still existed and when I am outside alone walking to class or to my comfy little dorm room, I lift my face up to the sky, feel that reassuring brush on my skin and that twist through my finger, and instantly feel valued and real in the world. This world is full of people and places, rules and opinions, that it’s easy to feel like you might be buried under it all. I’m sure everyone has felt the world pushing down on them before. That’s why, even though I may be a tree hugger child at heart, I believe that we should all breath out, look up, and feel the breeze.

This poem is about: 
My family
Our world



i really hope you like it. this is my first poem ive shared.

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