The Whispering Pines
I find my soul, my heart, my grace.
Among the pines, the wind hums low,
A gentle breeze, a soft hello.
The trees sway, dance in time,
To nature’s ancient, silent rhyme.
Birds flutter, clouds drift slow,
Beneath the sky’s endless glow.
Whispers of life, of love, of past,
In the woods where shadows cast.
The air is sweet with morning dew,
A tranquil world, forever new.
In this quiet, sacred place,
I find my soul, my heart, my grace.
About the Creator
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By S. A. Crawforda day ago in Humans
Comments (2)
Nature at it's best
I could smell the pine and the softness of the pine needles as I was walking through this forest. Good work.