Whispers of Nature

She wakes with dawn, her breath a breeze,

A soft exhale through swaying trees.

Her fingers paint the sky with light,

Blushing clouds in morning’s flight.

She hums in brooks and sings in rain,

Each drop a note, a tender strain.

With roots she listens, deeply still,

To stories written on the hill.

The sun, her lamp; the moon, her dream,

She dances in each lake and stream.

She weeps when forests fall to dust,

And guards the seeds in quiet trust.

We walk her skin with careless feet,

Yet still, she greets us warm and sweet.

But every scar we leave behind

She bears in silence, slow and kind.

Oh Nature, mother, breath, and soul,

You teach the broken parts to whole.

If we but stop, and truly see—

You offer more than just beauty.