Writing this poem, I referred to memories I held in the back of my mind of the days I would walk into the field behind my house and twirl with the dandelions in the wind during springtime, or the times I'd walk onto a deserted sandy shore before summertime even started to stand at the foggy edge of the ocean with not a soul in sight besides my own. Something about "wide open spaces" make me feel like I have the world at my disposal, and the world has me too. I no longer feel swallowed by the universe, but rather at peace with it. These "wide open spaces" are places to escape to that I cherish with a heartful of adoration and an occasional tear in my eye that signifies the appreciation I have for those sacred moments.
Writing this poem, I referred to memories I held in the back of my mind of the days I would walk into the field behind my house and twirl with the dandelions in the wind during springtime, or the times I'd walk onto a deserted sandy shore before summertime even started to stand at the foggy edge of the ocean with not a soul in sight besides my own. Something about "wide open spaces" make me feel like I have the world at my disposal, and the world has me too. I no longer feel swallowed by the universe, but rather at peace with it. These "wide open spaces" are places to escape to that I cherish with a heartful of adoration and an occasional tear in my eye that signifies the appreciation I have for those sacred moments.
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