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Poem
It’s the same everyday
The same wind, the same lush
The same whisper, the same tale
Yet, in the mist that blows
Through the sunlit meadows
I hear the same voice
Echoed different
Each time.

As my gazes fall
From the subtle ocean floating overhead
Carrying its tiny islands
To the coasts near the tangible oceans
There’s the wonder on him
Who let’s me stand.

There’s the thunders, Earth echoes
Through its hollow corridors;
And the storm it carries
Wanting to put everything in motion
It screams, and screams
It doesn’t know why,
As its voice, silence its ears, but others.

There’s the turmoil
It wishes to understand
So he shook the ground
That refused to let him
Stand his ground
The earthquakes with their heavy blow
It was its breakdowns.
The fear, now replaced with anger
Wants to have peace
He decides to unleash
Not wanting to care
But to let the land burn;
Volcanoes were made
When it had its meltdowns.
As the torment inside him grew
He tormented the world, he nurtured.
Threw his tantrums
As cyclones and tsunamis.
Like a human, Like a child.

Still, it has the tranquility,
I often wondered how it kept;
With all the commotion, he caused
And the ones, they brought.

I admire the seasons it bring 
The summer, when it felt the warmth;
Warmth of the sun
And the chuckles of the new born green.
The spring, when it felt the love;
From the giggles overheard
Near the fresh flower bed
To the wisdom bestowed to the sages
By the Himalayan mountain ranges
With their long white beard, 
Love was heard.
And then,
Came the autumn, when it retreats
To find the love within, engraved within.
To find it’s gemstone,
To reach it’s milestone.
Soon the wind arrives with its spikes
Now the nature retreats,
A different way.
It hikes the earlier Santa Claus-ed mountains
To heal himself, for the next year.

I admire the seasons it bring
The wind, the rain
It learnt to unwind it’s tantrum
In the solitude,
In the same solitude
It offered to the seekers.
It learnt to deal with his surges
Deal with himself.
Like a human. Like an adult.

Yet, it acts like a child
Every now and then
And a few other times.
It has flaws, but it grows
It lives to be born again
And born, to live again. 
Different, each time.

A human contained in the nature,
A nature contained within a human.
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