Being alone in the woods I am calm,

Walking along simply under the hood.

A butterfly resting sweetly in my palm,

Gentle creatures sleeping in the wood.

Climbing up towards a steep inclining hill.

A peaceful breeze floating soft through the May.

Stopping to pause and look at the human mill.

Not only on a bright and gentle day,

Strong wind, thunder, lighting, I brave the storm.

Problems of everyday I run to face,

Bright light, peaceful sun, keeping my smile warm.

Tripping stumbling trying to find my place.

Freedom and peace as I try to fly.

Watching the wood around me start to die.