The Mountains of Blue

As all the world’s pain washes away like the soft tides of the shore.
The colourful feelings of happiness crowd around me as the peaceful sentiment of freedom floats slow and steady, hovering over the ground like mist.
The smell of rich dirt fills me as the soft green fingers of ferns brush my legs.
The witty weather turns the green to the brown, fine tuning it’s guitar of leaves.
I hear the delicate drops of the waterfall that trickle into the thin crevices, tapping out a soft beat.
It conducts the music that flows through the air, the harmonious song that the gala’s and eagles sing on the zenith of the tallest branch.
The crickets play their violins that echo across the tall hills of life.
The Mountains of blue walk across the land as the trees dig deep into the Earth. 
The Mountains of blue stand proud and conspicuous
Mother Earth holds them as a nest holds a bird.
The crooning of a cockatoo is heard in a distance as l stand, listening in silence wishing the moment could last forever.