Mother Nature takes no end
Sprouting through the cracks
Seeping into tiny crevices
Growing even in the shades
Luscious green and floral scents
Waterfalls of dreamy travels
Flowers grow where sunshine lands
Shoots of regrowth peeking up
Birds of sweetness whistling
Trails of footsteps making way
Lined up neatly with rocks and stones
They burn her down and after time
She rises back up from the ashes
Her shining baubles in the sky
The sun and moon and shiny stars
All play a part in tides of way
Leaping waving sinking swim
Looking closely only further
A space between the light and dark
Where those whose souls we lose
Can pass on through to wait at peace
For Mother Nature’s home of bliss
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THANKYou for reading🕊️
About the Creator
VJHD
The subsistence of our lives will live on in our words, forever encapsulating our feelings.
Words are the centre point of our existence. If we never write anything down, did we ever really exist at all?
The Whiskered War
A domestic drama; rather, you're witnessing a millennium-old conflict over the fate of the entire planet (and possibly just a smA titanic struggle between wits and strength has been raging in the shadows for millennia: The Great Nibble vs. The Purrsecution. The cats, the furry fighters, the fascists of the feline world, occupy one corner. In the other, mice make up the squeaky squad, the small militia. The reward? Domination over the entire world (and possibly an especially tasty cheese wheel).
By Richard Weber5 days ago in Humor
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