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PORTENTOUS PROGNOSIS

(If Mother Earth could speak...)

 

I’m the first light of dawn setting fire to the skies,

the awe that ends with a soft, sated sigh.

I’m the slow, gentle sway of ancient, lofty trees,

branches of life filled with wonders to be.

 

I am sands and seas; a warm summer breeze

blowing soft, whispered tunes over ever-changing dunes.

I am stars in the heavens sailing high overhe...

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mother nature   Mother Earth   portent   prognosis   beauty   storm   destruction   despair

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