This poem is supposed to represent my personal "safe space" in my mind. |
The autumn air has a specific smell. It’s the smell of the wind on a chilly but comfortable day. The most trees in one area than there are within a few miles of this city-desert like town, Exist in this place. This calming, sweet, fantasy-like place. The area around me is completely void of strangers. There’s no one here that I don’t want to be, No one that makes me feel anxious, insecure, or stressed. I’m sitting on a concrete ledge next to a field, looking out onto the vast ocean. The breeze is filing towards me like the rain coming out of a cloud. Lack of a smell is what is so appealing about this steady but very gentle breeze. It’s like water, The freshness comes from absence of a taste, Or in this case smell. In this place there is no such thing as time. Any “time” spent here is one second and forever in the same moment. There is no worry about having to be somewhere, No worry about how much longer can be spent here. This is where I stay. Looking around there are the people that make everything more comfortable. There’s no worries when these people are around. Talking, enjoying the presence, listening. Coexisting with anything and everyone that gives the illusion of security. Standing up and walking forward I stop at the rail, The edge of the pavement before the ocean. Looking back I see the only things I want to see or be with during this forever version of time. |