I have been taken to someplace new, someplace with ample beauty,
Above me, pearly white clouds drift lazily on the clear blue sky,
Below me, luscious grass licks my ankles, blowing in the warm breeze,
Behind me, a clear river flows, its water clean enough to see the trees’ reflection,
In front of me, baby blue mountains pierce the sky in abundant numbers,
To my left, a thick forest of a seemingly endless assortment of trees flourishes,
To my right, a single snowy white dove sits perched on a very large evergreen tree.
The dove lives in harmony with me, alongside me, within me,
The tree on which it rests is the largest tree within my view,
As long as the tree exists, the dove exists; as long as the dove exists, I exist,
The dove and the tree tell a story of great friendship and harmony,
For without the dove, there is no tree; without the tree there is no dove,
I am its only audience, the only one who is listening, yet I listen with great attention,
Their story is that of life: what it was, what it is, what it will come to be.
The sun is rising, but something is different, something is not quite right,
The river exhibits a shade of ****** red; the forest reeks of damage,
The mountains sing a sorrowful tune; the clouds obliterate the sky,
The grass has hardened, now a gloomy gray; the breeze has turned frigid cold,
The dove has gone, its once green home reduced to a defeated ash,
The once great land has vanished, and with it, the feathered wing had vanished too,
For without the dove, there is no tree; without the tree there is no dove.