Look Past the Trees, and Discovery True Beauty.

Authors Note: This is another creative writing piece for my goals of writing once a week and word choice.

Nobody knows the meadow like I do. It's soft, the ground is soft, as soft as a baby's skin being first washed. It bright green vibrancy flows through the wind, as it whispers secrets to the surrounding forest. The flowers, they bloom. But these blooming flowers are not just ordinary flowers, they're new lives beginning to breathe. Whoosh! The grass sways as graceful as a couple on a ballroom floor. Each time your feet touch the smooth soil, the ground crumbles beneath you. I run across the earth, wind races through my skin, up my spine, and through my veins, giving me breath to the places I've been aching to heal. The flowers leave a fragrance as I lie down. The trees to my left look pleased and satisfied, as if their mother as just returned. My fingertips dig into the earths surface, leaving rich, moist soil underneath my fingernails. Here, here is my home, where I'm finally at peace. The meadow here is a beautiful place like no other. And finally, I'm where I belong.