Philosophy and Psychology

the tree that shelters has long lost its roots I imagine playing in her shadow, cuddling in the grass like a little child who longs for warmth the hum of birds, the murmur of fields, all wait for me as I sing my prayers prayers to the one who created the earth and the rhythm between the breaths am I the one who lives in solitude, that almost feels like peace? where wanting grows tired and desire learns to kneel am I the prey of my thoughts or am I the dead sea? nothing I am, if not loved by  thee