Sitting on a hilltop
Early morning breeze pass by
fingers resting on the wet green grass
Eyes watching the sunrise
Slowly, but gently as it pops
into the crimson red sky
The smell of flowers drift to the nose
fresh pure life knocking at the door
Mouth is shut, as if to keep this a secret…
though the lips form a smile
when the ears hear the birds
Waking up the rest of the world…
into the mystery of nature.
Another poem from my teenage diaries series.