Walking through the forest,
Looking at the tree,
Listening to the gentle,
buzzing of the bees.
Ever so slowly,
I walk on no path,
Watching ever step I take,
Hoping that it lasts.
I see the birds flying,
Soaring through the breeze,
Un in the sky,
Floating with ease.
Walking in the forest,
Is my favorite thing to do,
It gives me time to think,
Of the next thing I'll do.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem