Fifteen Miles Between Earth and Sky

The earth unfolded before me

like a book

that had forgotten its ending.

The wind whispered stories

older than the mountains themselves.

Golden fields stretched toward the horizon,

holding secrets

beneath their roots.

The trees stood like ancient guardians,

watching centuries pass

in silence.

And the sun painted the sky

with colors

no human hand could recreate.

With every mile,

my heartbeat became a drum

in nature's endless orchestra.

My muscles burned,

but my thoughts drifted weightlessly

among the clouds.

I wondered how something so vast

could make my worries

seem so small.

Perhaps the world

was never asking me to hurry,

only to notice.

Perhaps the greatest journeys

happen within us

while our bodies move forward.

Somewhere between the earth and sky,

I began leaving

pieces of doubt behind.

The wind carried away thoughts

I had mistaken

for permanent truths.

I discovered that the horizon

was not a boundary,

but an invitation.

And for a moment,

I belonged to nothing

except the present.

By the fifteenth mile,

I realized I had traveled nowhere at all,

because the universe I was searching for

had been within me

all along.