Peace river

About a day i spent with a friend of mine and his girlfriend, they took me to their secret place in the woods kids in the town go to get stoned. This is what i experienced

 

 

    We have found a place, a new hiding spot. The smooth pre fall air, peacefully still river. The beauty of true peace i have glimpsed this day.

   As i sat on the rock, the small smooth bolder buried mostly by the earth, i detached myself from my good friend and his new lover. I looked on at the calm shallow river, amazed at the beauty of the forest at dusk. It was as if we were traveling to a place where faries can be found, a grand new world hidden in plane veiw of our society, hidden only by a few trees and vines, its silence hidden by the sparrows distant calls. The geese fed from the mud, dunking their heads into the water and digging around searching for some small loney shell fish to eat. Here in this calm place, man kinds true womb, i found a sense of peace..somthing sacred.

    The sacred herb, the green budded plant we took into our bodies that day, enhancing our very perceptions of reality. Overtaking my friend were feeling of sheer affection for his frizzy haired queen, a young girl who's spirit i could tell he fed from.  He became displaced, lost deep into her soft lips, her gentle kiss and hectic expressions.

    Me myself? I had no other, no fickled lover occompanying me this cool August day. I sat by myself in the wood, allowing the herb to fully overtake my senses. The 5 basic cavas boards from which i painted a reality. Back in the methaphor war, where all the boys are soldiers and the girls are pawns, the woods were always uncharted space. It was a place we thought was safe, controlled rebel terretory. Back in that town, they prefer moshpits, being chased by  pigs dressed in little blue caps and chaotic riot parites over times like these. A victim of this tearing of reality i am, the peace in this place i found took me deep into its core. It affected my mind, and i wondered if any of the rebel children from my home had ever glimpsed something so beautiful as silence. Perhaps the loosing war they fight is too deep within them.