Within seconds the blood reaches my head.
I yell and scream through blind fury.
My head heats up, feel the frustration building.
I want to break something, scream for all I’m worth.
But I know I can’t.
I must have control, simmer my steam.
So I stomp outside, to my one safe haven.
The grass is my bed of relief.
The wind cools my blood, and the creek dissolves my frustration.
The distant cars, the faint noise of construction,
and the quiet rustle of trees;
it soothes me, and I relax.
Slowly I cool off, feeling lightheaded from my anger.
But I know that I will never lose my haven.
My stronghold will never vanish.
The smile comes to me.
I can talk to others.
My head is clear.
Nature has its magic.