At Nature’s Temple

A carpet of bluebells graces the earth,
Violet swathes—featherlight silks—
An ocean of belles bow in namaste,
Their quiet presence drawing me in,
As sisters in bloom welcome me
into their sacred, swaying circle.

They soothe me into trance—
a dance of devotion,
where silence speaks in colour and scent.

Wild garlic beckons with her sultry perfume,
Pure white stars alight on emerald thrones,
Her beauty a soft defiance
against the shadowed forest floor.
I drift to her, helpless—
Her fragrance weaves its spell.
She twirls, radiant and sure,
a hypnotic priestess on green stage.

An impromptu choir stirs the hush,
Nature’s breath gathering voice.
A harmony rises—raw, ethereal—
No opera rivals this sacred sound.
In the cathedral of trees, I listen…
Strings of life pull me skyward,
each note a golden thread of grace.

At the heart of this living temple,
I sit in stillness and reverence.
I honour those who’ve fallen—
each leaf, each branch,
each once-mighty trunk now resting.

Every breath whispers meaning,
filling my heart with quiet purpose—
compassion, reverence, and grace.
Here, Nature sings:
a symphony guiding us gently,
always, back to love.

— Guinevere (03:05:24 )

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Thank you for reading. From my heart to yours,
Jeni @ Peace Of Mind Health 🤍🙏

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