In nature's realm, my hand extends,
A steward's touch, where beauty transcends.
With gentle grace, I hold the land,
And feel the pulse of earth's command.
In forests tall, where secrets lie,
I cradle life beneath the sky.
The leaves, like whispers, brush my palm,
As ancient wisdom seeks to calm.
The rivers flow within my grasp,
Their currents dance, a liquid clasp.
I cup the waters, pure and free,
Their murmurs sing a symphony.
Mountains rise, their peaks reach high,
A testament to time gone by.
I trace their rugged contours grand,
And marvel at this ancient land.
Birds take flight at my fingertips,
Their melodies upon my lips.
With feathered touch, I feel their flight,
A fragile grace, a fleeting sight.
The blossoms bloom in vibrant hues,
Their fragrant essence, a sacred muse.
I gather petals, soft and grand,
Creating bouquets, nature's own command.
But in my hand, I hold a choice,
To honor nature's sacred voice.
To cherish and protect this earth,
For future generations' worth.
For nature's gifts are not for greed,
But for a harmony we all must heed.
In my hand, I cradle the key,
To a world where nature's spirits roam free.
About the Creator
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