Free-Falling
The cold breeze caresses my faces as blades of grass gently prick my back.
The little voice in my head instructs to inhale and exhale,
to relinquish any worry, frustration, or hate.
As the haze clouding my mind disappears, I see a fireplace, a cup of tea, and a good book.
I hear the pitter-patter of rain and absorb its frequency,
the dance of freedom.
This poem is about:
Me