I had to write a poem with a pastoral theme for my environmental literatures class, and here is what I wrote:

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Everyone has a place they feel is theirs,
Some place they call home.
A place where you feel like one complete connected being
Where a peaceful content warms and embraces you.

My place is not surrounded by borders or walls
But is a continuous journey,
Changing with each season.
Though it is a part of me, it does not belong to me
And I don’t want it to.

Sometimes the wind blows harshly here
Sometimes it is calm.
Sometimes I walk and endlessly explore
Sometimes I just sit in one place
And that one place is perfect.

A deer jumped across the path the other day
And I felt honoured to be in its presence
A butterfly fluttered amongst the wildflowers
And I was happy it was sharing this moment.

A place that is your home
Doesn’t have to be where you lay your head at night
Or where you keep things you own
Or where your family lives.

A place that is your home
Can be anywhere you feel safe.

I remember wanting to get lost
So I could stay here forever,
but the time always came
to return to a home with four walls and a roof.

I’m grateful that my childhood memories
Revolve around a place
That changes with each season,
Where a river flows through each bend,
Where life changes
But the place remains the same.

I’m grateful that my cherished moments
Occurred in the open air
That is there for all
Where no money is exchanged
And nothing is sold.

The trees sing to the open skies
And the wind blows a tune through the reeds
The water ripples on the rocks
And pebbles gently sleep on the soil.

The riverbank watches all that pass through it
All who journey along this path.
The trees watch all who stop to linger
Who claim this place as their home
For awhile.
Though this place is still,
I am not alone.