Where Beauty Lives
Morning stirs, the earth exhales,
Mist curls low through wooded trails.
A starling calls, the light grows wide,
And dew drops glimmer, side by side.
The air smells sweet of pine and rain,
Soft as truth, it soothes the brain.
Each rustling leaf, each buzzing bee,
Speaks quiet words of honesty.
I find in kindness something real,
A touch, a laugh, the way hearts heal.
No need for gold, no need for show—
Just gentle hands that help things grow.
Beauty lives where wild things roam,
Where roots dig deep and hearts find home.
In morning’s hush, in love’s warm thread,
In life that’s felt, not just been said.
And when the day folds into night,
The stars lean close, their glow so slight.
I see the truth the silence gives—
That love and earth are where beauty lives.
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