8 Miles From Whitby

Can you here it?
Can you feel it?
The earth is breathing
The wind is blowing
But it makes no sound
It is the trees that talk
And the grass that whispers
And the leaves,
They scuttle,
Across naked fields

In this place,
At this time,
All is at peace,
No motors hum,
Nor engines roar,
No people chatter,
Nor crowds devour
It is not silence,
Not stillness,
But life and beauty

Colours arrest the eyes
And dazzle in rainbow hues
Reds and golds and yellows
Yet the sky hides it’s blues
Misted hilltops rolling by
Shrouded by low soft cloud
Glistening every blade of grass
Like a living, moving shroud

Be still a moment
And take it in
This rare and natural beauty
It beats my heart and holds my hand
As I behold this view to me
When all life strives, to get me down
This place remembers still
It soothes my soul
And slows the beats
And strengthens my waning will

Neither mountain peaks,
Nor lakes abound,
No stunning views,
Nor singing sound,
Are needed to show its worth,
I have seen everyday,
Yet gone unnoticed,
Small deaths and births
Now finally I realise,
This is heaven on earth