A place locked in my memories so far from reach, an ethereal place holding onto the fragile strings of what's left of my memories. 
Pulled into a phase of sweet lost childhood memories.
Sitting here as I write this poem, the memories pour out onto me.
Seems so strange yet so familiar, an urge to rewind the clock and live it again.
A secret place that I felt belonging, a place of quietness from the bustling lives of adulthood.
Piecing the broken memories back together, the sensation of nostalgia crashes on me.
A time when everything felt so right, a time when I was happy.
Time pulls me back to that place.
The silence of the afternoon sun gently touches the horizon. 
The soft landing of crinkled leaves forming a pile. 
The refreshing air surrounding me felt free, not restrained. 
I feel paralysed for what such paradise could exist?
The breeze blowing gives me a sense of security.
The birds in the sky communicate with each other in their unique calls, they seem so calm for they do not need to worry.  
The young me was worriless, still experiencing and exploring nature before being tainted by the outside world. 
Even the old trees whose branches dig deep into the soil have nothing to worry about.
Even the stray cats who gather in the far distance look on.
I forgot how the warmth of nature has felt like, I have forgotten where I have come from.
But never will I forget the warmth of this forest which brings forth life.