Traveler On the Backroads

88f20pot3hnig5oeh84  · WHEN I WAS A WEE LAD and felt the need to get away, I would run across the field to the trees that hugged the river. As I wandered through the woods, I would listen to the breeze brushing like fingers through the branches and leaves above. I would dream of far away places I would one day go. I would write poems and stories in my head as I sat beside a big ol’ tree and watched the water swirl around a fallen tree that lay half under water and half above. I would close my eyes and listen to the air glide whisper-like over the wings of a passing flock of geese. I would get in touch with me and all of creation around me … 🌺🌸💓

i run, run as fast as i canto this place where i can sit in one spot close my eyes and

hear, hear the river talking to me

the fingers of God brushing through the trees up above

.feel at one with all of creation

one Spirit

spinning twirling flowing

one into another out into the furthest reaches

of space beyond the milky way to the distant cosmos to the edge of all that’s known

flowing drifting

lazily along through the branches over rocks and stones

drifting into a peaceful slumber

just me my Soul and God 🌺🌸💓.

~ poem “Me, My Soul and God” by Michael Traveler, author/poet

May be an image of nature, body of water and tree

photo by Jerry E Shelton

Published by Nelle

I am interested in writing short stories for my pleasure and my family's but although I have published four family books I will not go down that path again but still want what I write out there so I will see how this goes

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