An evening glow arrays the luminous pines,
A banded forest stained with a velvet wine.
The brook speaks too much but says nothing at all,
Babbling a tune with each harmonious fall.
Silence is golden but up here it’s free,
As nature is singing its story to me.
While the world below is consumed to its rind,
I’m shaded from the glare of your flashing signs.
Entranced by the melodies of a wild call,
Happiness beckons you from outside the walls.
You don’t need a map on this aimless journey,
As we find the trail to serendipity.
Guide that inspired this poem:
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