Nature's a Wizard
She morphs into a sultry Summer's morn
garbed in a cloak of alabaster fog:
gossamer thin, and casually worn.
And echoing the croaks of a bullfrog:
She stops to carry on a dialogue,
with croaks too numerous to catalog.
Slipping on Her slippers of sparkling dew:
She inks an ebony horizon red;
as the sun rises in a sky of blue.
Shadows get resurrected from the dead:
while spiders dangling from a silken thread
spin dream-catcher webs that fill flies with dread.
Nature's a wizard at staging effects;
like vermilion sunsets, jungles of green,
and vivid colors of birds and insects.
Wherever we go, She's already been:
let's keep Her rivers, seas, and oceans clean:
Her mood can change; She's not always serene.
I hear Her whisper secrets to the wind:
like Spring's approaching, or the ice has thinned.
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