The ancient oak, a weathered soul,
Embraces winds, a silent stroll.
Its gnarled hands, a testament to time,
Whispering secrets, a timeless rhyme.
The brook, a silver thread, meanders slow,
Reflecting skies, a gentle flow.
Carrying dreams on its rippling breast,
Whispering secrets, putting souls to rest.
The mountain peaks, a crown of snow,
Guardians silent, where secrets grow.
A tapestry of green, a vibrant hue,
Where life unfolds, and spirits renew.
The sun, a golden eye, a watchful gaze,
Awakening shadows, in a warm embrace.
Nourishing life, with gentle hand,
A timeless rhythm, across the land.
For in nature's embrace, we find our peace,
A solace deep, where troubles cease.
A mirror held, reflecting our own soul,
A story whispered, making us whole.
©bfa022425
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