The waters, the pink-in-blue sky, the moss covered rocks, nature, old, and looking perfectly new.
No one around. Flat nature simply lying around. Late spring. I’d like to be there with you.
No mountains to climb. No struggle, in thin air, climbing, to look for a view.
The waters, almost politely, in silence nudge the land. I’d like to be there with you.
No people. Animals? There might be birds. One, or two, singing softly, the notes far between, and few.
The soft wind blowing over the soft waters. I’d like to be there with you.
We have time to get there, and time to return, and tomorrow we can go there, too.
Or was that a dream? Did we go there? I’d like to go there with you.