Tired
Author: JMatik
Foot steps
My footfalls the only sounds, the forest is quiet, the leaves rustle under my feet. The light of day fades, orange and red scar the sky above the canopy. Darkness is coming, the night brings terrors. I move faster, my destination is not far. I listen, something’s footsteps closing in.
The Best of Friends
I step in the door and she is waiting, her whines and cries warm my heart. She is always there for me, I tell her about my day and she listens patiently, her eyes staring at me. We go walking and play in the grass and trees, running and chasing.
Attention! Forest
I saw this on my walk the other day. I loved the vivid yellow, so bold against the dreary grey of the forest. 
Also made all the more clear because of the obvious the dichotomy between nature and the man made plastic of the tape.
Photo Challenge: Letters
Haunting Cries
Eyelids droop, head heavy, breathing slowing. Sleep calls to me, it taunts me, I am struggling against it, I want it, with every fibre of my being I want to give in to its haunting calls. I have been walking for so long, however my journey is not ending yet.
Through Snow
Waiting…
I’m waiting, seconds slowly pass. My mind wanders, thoughts of her fill my mind once again, I shake, I don’t want these feelings, these thoughts anymore. I am tormented constantly. Why can I not escape, she has gone, but my mind refuses to let her go, she was my forever.
Colourful Branches
The Medium
My pencil strikes,
The paper is soft,
Lines form pipes,
And slowly images leap aloft,
I hold the pencil but it creates,
I am the instrument,
The art awaits,
And the paper erupts in an instant,
I am the artist,
But the paper is my art.
Red
Stroll
Seeing and breathing the fresh air,
Taming nature and other impossibilities are contemplated,
Roaming the trees and finding adventure,
Obvious it seems, I have walked so many times before and never noticed,
Living, breathing, the woods are alive,
Large and small everything has its place.
Bird’s Nest?
A Game
A screen calls out to me,
Its cries are not unheard,
I move and sit calmly,
I will watch like the masses.
I sit in tension,
I cannot bear to tear myself,
Grasp is total, complete attention,
It holds me until the last second.
Finally I am free,
Thoughts return slowly,
Once again I am me,
Until the next episode.
Rational?
Routine, rummage roughly, rest, realization.
Reality reckons, routine ruined, remember, reason.
Rise.
Weekly Writing Challenge: Time For Poetry
I tried something new here, I have never attempted a poem that uses the same starting letter, but I used this weeks challenge as an opportunity to try something new.
A Monumental Tree
In Northern Canada there used to be forests filled with giant white pine trees, now however over the years loggers have cut many of them down. There is one still standing not far from my house, it is easy to spot because it stands 30m higher than everything else. Nicknamed “The Big Tree”, it has become a monument to all who live on the lake, people have even put several plaques in remembrance for those who lived and died while living on the lake’s banks. The Big Tree is our monument.
A 200 year old white pine, nicknamed “The Big Tree “
A Boisterous Life 