Getting some air

Stand atop a high place – it doesn’t matter where;
just stand tall and listen to the Windsong in your hair,
for that’s the song of Gaia, you can hear it anywhere,
if you find a place to hide from constant worldly blare.
So stand atop a mountain, or just some lowly hill;
where ever Gaia’s wind blows, it’s there you’ll feel the thrill
and know just why our ancestors chose lung instead of gill.
So they could breath in deeply and of  Windsong have their fill!

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
This entry was posted in Green Poetry, Life, Mental Health. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s