A Visit in the Secret Valley

By Morgan

The chirps and hums and croaks around the shed in the habitat of life.

In a magic place wave the wand of your imagination.

Picture a cool, breezy evening. Insects buzzing, rustles of animals in bushes.

Bushes and vines filled with large, tropical, colorful flowers.

A wreath of beauty surrounds you.

The palms are bending, water is flowing down the creek.

The trellis is inviting you to take a seat, relax, think of life. For life is among us in this world of shady forests, waterfalls, seas of grass, a world of beauty.

Step into a realm. Take a step into the pool of clear deep liquid droplets of dew clinging to your face. Relaxing, clean water.

Trees of great height provide the shade of the deep woodland.

Moonlit shadows skim the grass. Warm air breezes through the night.

You are not alone. The world sleeps with you as their guide. You are nature’s limits.

Every creature shall bid you well. Ride steadily behind the falcon’s mask.

Feel the environment beckoning the arrival of love cascading down upon the planet, for earth awaits dawn yet to come.

The night is long, relaxing and quiet. You feel as if you were the gentle, the kind, quiet master of hope, love, goodness, wisdom.

Creeping vines with gourds, fruit and nature, tropical minnows, multicolor-feathered birds, plants, insects and down to the heart of the earth, you are it. It is you.

The deep vibrations of the mountains fall around this circle, forming this valley. Reforming you. Recreation is occurring now as the sun opens his golden eyes, smiling rays of light creep slowly over the face of the ground, opening a world of light.

The awakening happens. You are a majesty of the temple. The Temple.

You shall live on, finding paths of light and hope through this reign of life.

Nature is now in your hands.

Gently, you stroke the trunk of a woodland oak, thanking the creator for you.

Feel the truth of nature, calling you to the garden where it all began.

Sit once again on the soft cushions of moss at your feet.

Caress the gentle petals of the rose. Tear drops flow down your cheeks.

The sky is taking you away with the wind of a lasting moment.

Sit by the shed and think. Think of magic, the magic in the secret valley.

Morgan is a fifth grader at Glen Lake School.