I love to watch the rain drip,
Down the leaves like slides

I love to feel the water,
As the trees embrace the tides

The moon wakes the wet,
And the sun owns the rain

The wind howls its guilt,
As the clouds shake their pain

I sit softly in the grass,
A book in my hands

The ink slowly blurs,
Following the sky’s demands

I never finish my story,
For Mother Nature I respect

But the tree above just soaks me,
When the leaves above have wept

I sit below the bark,
the wood that formed my book

I let the leaves cry wonders,
for it’s their life my story took.