Alone

There are times when serenity is overdue
The moments close to screaming
When every sinew is stretched
The waves of stress twang tight
Like guitar strings plucked to breaking discordance
Flee
Away to the mountain top
To seek and find
An intermission
Where senses may be filled by
Soft whispering grass
Chuckling brooks
Languid clouds which pause to paint themselves
On pastel skies
Feel loneliness engulf
Cushion
Swathe
Cajole
Fill the lungs and heart with purity
Restore the light and power
Of pleasure
brought forth by the gentle tumult
Of simple joy