poem: random kind

Running threw a forest
hearing the beautiful noises of the night
howls, chirping and who noises
still running not fast yet not slow either
no one is chasing you
just trying to get to a new heavenly body
more fitting then this
explore the frigid ground under your feet
you stop and begin to
admire the fascinating woodland before you loving it all
hear the watery waste of the ocean waves
casting above are stars
gazes down at the dry land
a ruff feeling under the feet
bends down and feels the tiny sand
feels soft yet kinda solid
the wind is so soft like a spring breeze
that travels playfully in the world