The Song of Nature
The morning sun awoke the sleeping sky,
Where golden rays caress the gentle breeze,
And silver dew upon the meadow lies.
The sparrow takes its flight on eager wings,
To sing of freedom through the ancient trees,
While deep within the woodland chorus rings.
A quiet river winds its graceful way,
Reflecting clouds as restless as the seas,
It carries shadows through the fading day.
The silent valley rests in jade-like green,
Embraced by every whispering that breathes,
The fairest wild the world has ever seen.
A tapestry of color takes to flight,
Awakening the forest and the seas,
As morning chases out the chill of night.
The petals open to the warming sun,
And dance among the gossips of the breeze,
Until the evening journey has begun.
The quiet frost descends upon the land,
Beside the roaring, tempest-tossing seas,
A masterpiece by nature’s master hand.
The tallest mountains reach the heavens high,
To stand against the fury of the breeze,
Beneath the vastness of the painted sky.
A sudden storm begins to toss and roar,
Unleashed across the ocean and the seas,
To beat against the unforgiving shore.
The quiet woods are hushed in deep repose,
As gentle shadows settle through the trees,
And every fragrant blossom soft and close.
The twilight paints the west in glowing red,
A peaceful silence settles on the breeze,
As stars emerge above the earthly bed.
The silver moon commands the quiet night,
Reflected on the surface of the seas,
And bathes the sleeping forest in its light.
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