The Clearing in My Mind

It's very green above the hustle of The Valley, and I walk further up, up, up. I remember your description. Tall trees like spires. But then, forests have always been my church. Sunlight comes as blessings, dappled but finding its way to me, through the thick and thin. I live in the cadence of your words. Moss, and grass, and mud, and I trek up, up, up. To a clearing for coffee with a book. Peace, and greenliness, and a view. It's amusing the place I most frequently daydream of is one I've never been.