The song of the cicadas.
The stories in the sand.
The floating of the butterflies.
Leaves shaking like hands.

The whispers in the wind.
The dancing of the ants.
The stillness of the mountains.
The shivers through the plants.

The patience of the sunshine.
The blanket of the shade.
The potential in the skyline.
An embrace from this world she made.

Breath settles on my skin, so soft.
This moment feels like a smile.
I hear a voice in the cicadas,
"Sit and rest for awhile."

Watch the sun step slowly.
Listen to the speech of the wind.
The plants are performing for you, my dear.
The shade is inviting you in.

The ants will teach you to free-style.
The butterflies, how to have fun.
The sky will promise protection,
While the sand just waits to become.

Nature, it travels alongside you.
She begs you to act like a friend.
If you weave your stories together,
She'll entertain you until the end.

So, listen to the song of the cicadas.
Write your stories in sand.
Nature will rest there beside you,
In this world she created by hand.