My poetry only seems to flow when I am in beautiful places. This one was written in the Shropshire hills, inspired by the stillness of the trees.
Steps to stillness
Step one: Moving quickly, adrenalin perceived as energy, outward focus, unaware.
Step two: Slowing down. Still covering long distance though. Beginning to see.
Step three: Moving - but not far. There is something nearer to home. Reverence and awe for surroundings beginning to seep in. Fleeting glimpses of peace - this is new.
Step four: Adjectives begin to fly: tranquility, satisfaction, contentment, quiet joy, more awareness, presence. Is this love?
Step five: Stop stepping.