At the edge of the self

There are landscapes that speak without sound.

This one does not try to impress. It does not hold you back. It lets you pass through.

A line, almost nothing. A few trees, quietly present.

And yet, everything is there.

I am drawn to spaces where the eye can breathe.

Where lines do not confine, but open.

They gently take us elsewhere. Not far. Just enough to step away from the noise.

There are simples places.

Yet they hold a rare kind of peace.

A peace that does not impose itself

But reveals it.