The wind makes the leaves quiver
And rustle in the old trees.
The sound is cold, soothing, and calm, almost like a whisper.
Its coolness is welcomed on my skin; it gives me a purified feeling.
The wind gracefully blows through the tall old oaks.
Silence is all I hear in this deep ancient wood.
It creeks and moans as if the trees were speaking to one another.
Speaking in their tongue of secrets and history of the wood.
The clouds come overhead, they bring the scent of rain.
Releasing their gift to quench the lands thirst.
I feel it on my skin wet, cold, yet it quenches a thirst of my own.
The smell of wet dirt, the sound of thunder roaring in the distance and the sight of lightning striking the ground, it makes me tremble inside.
The force of the storm is great and powerful, but I do not fear it.
The trees shelter me and keep me safe.
Deep in the trees hollow bark, my mind and body drift to sleep.
Warmth and darkness.
I will not be afraid, and I will never give up my search for the one thing that I Thirst.
Belle the Leoness Community Member 
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