Where Rainbows Whisper to Snow‑Crowned Peaks

After the rain, the earth is still,

A soft embrace of morning’s thrill.

The sky, once bruised, now pale and bright,

Reveals a canvas pure and light.

A rainbow arcs with colors bold,

As if the heavens' secrets told.

It stretches wide across the sky,

A fleeting dream that passes by.

The snow-capped peaks, so pure, so high,

Reflect the sun’s first golden sigh.

They stand like sentinels of old,

Guardians of stories untold.

Beneath, the grass, so fresh and green,

Dances in the breeze unseen.

Its blades, like whispers soft and sweet,

Kiss the earth where sky and nature meet.

Birds, in chorus, sing their song,

A melody that all belong.

Each note a joy, each call a prayer,

Filling the crisp, unbroken air.

The scent of pine and wet earth rise,

A fragrance caught between the skies.

Each moment is a painter’s brush,

The world renewed in morning’s hush.

And here, amid the quiet grace,

I find my heart, my resting place.

For in this moment, wild and free,

Nature's beauty speaks to me.