By Maytal Lazarovic
Sweet evening wind brushes by,
No words spoken or voices to be heard.
Silence dances amongst the fireflies in the sky,
Every movement felt, from foot to leg, leg to heart.
Worries, thoughts, tribulations begin to melt, slowly falling apart,
Existing only with the ground on which I walk.
Feeling one
With the grass,
the tree,
the moon,
and the rock.