The Poetry of Earth is never dead
I timelessly wander through the hills and dales knitting Earth's poetry to perfect tales The river writes of his effortless freedom The winds of fate my destiny becomes. The flowers lament on the stillness of eve friendless in their gloomy solitude yet in their lament they often receive a poets admiration in wonder mute. The leaves speak of their holy reincarnation when porous earth surrogate icy sheets rejuvenating with wondrous incantation their sacred cycle of life repeats. The fireflies are the creatures of night braving the dark with a warrior's glow an aura of courage, their body flow Also known as creatures of Light. The Mount speak of its gargantuan peaks ice-clad caverns and watery creeks awaking from Sun's embrace Dawn's story it fervently seeks. The Ocean's Oneness unites them all vanishing desires like a salt-doll moment after moment new poems are made The poetry of Earth is never dead.
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Nature
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