Let the heart feel.

Quietness and stillness around are broken by the croaking of the frogs, a train blowing its horn far off in the distance and the sudden bark of a dog.

For a moment those sounds mix and fit perfectly with each other. The perfect melody, if you will.

Chill is in the light breeze blowing up a few stray ambers from the fire pit.

Peaceful it is.  Relaxing, a bliss.

This is how memories are made. This is when the mind wonders into the abysmal darkness of the night, bringing back the words and thoughts that will turn into poems.

Let the heart feel.