My real therapist

I have a therapist.

And her name is nature.

 

Listening to the sound of the waves, breaking on the beach.
Hearing the wind in the leaves of the tree.
Feeling a kiss of the sun on my cheeks.
Viewing the colours of the moor.
Feeling the rocks in my hands.
The feeling of earth under my feet.
Feeling my tears, softly wiped away by the wind.
Listening to the ants, building their home.
A falling acorn, tickling on branches,
Falling to earth with a softly burst. 
Like the whisper of my soul.
Which I am feeling inside.
Which tells me what direction to take.
Giving me an instant to heal.
To hear my own voice,
which has been disregarded too long.
Which was not heard, even when it was screaming.
Screaming so loud, but unheard.
Sitting in nature all the chaos of the world
Is of none importance at all.
Shouting people, declaring each other a fool.
Pointing fingers from one to another,
And back in the same way, without a solution.
It is not real. It is only human.
Not part of nature, what will claim his place
in the world. 
Just like it should be.
We should take nature with us.
As we are a part of it.
Not fighting it.
But using it.
To feed our bodies,
do care for our souls.
Like it does in natural way.
And just as it should be.
I have a therapist.
And her name is nature.
And nature, it’s me.

De Gans

I have a therapist
The wholeness of nature (photo Pixabay)

Click here to read all my English posts.

Lees ook: Aarden (1) en Aarden (2)


Mooi Leven, by De Gans has a page on Facebook, I would be delighted to meet you there.
“The Goose” also loves to gaggle at Instagram and, every now and then, at Twitter and at Pinterest

 

 

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