There is a certain beauty to people who can lead my imagination back to the places I find adventure and peace, my mind and my heart, and more than anything myself.

Every time I pass a broken trail that desperately misses the feet that used to tramp a clean path along it back to a beautiful place, I wonder where it leads.  My imagination follows it back to somewhere unimaginably serene, where birds chirp undisturbed, where trees grow unhindered, where rivers still flow wildly and free.

Somewhere inside of me a little voice calls out, growing louder all the time.  It calls for me to find it out where the world feels like it’s meant to.  It calls for me to open the door and venture out into the world that I love.  It draws me into images of the things that I dream of in the night.

A tiny cabin, far back in the forest,

The perfect place to truly find rest.

Nestled snugly amongst thousands of trees,

All rocking gently in the winter breeze.

Smoke billows up from the old stone chimney,

Creating a cloud within the snow that falls gently.

The windows glow from the fire light.

A glowing border for the face staring out into the night.

Warm inside, humming along to a beautiful tune,

Wishfully watching the pale light of the moon.

Hoping to attach a wish to a falling star,

Wanting to draw you back from wherever you are.

The face of your spirit calls you back to the wild.

To open the door again for your inner child.

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