Gushing gales
vibrant blossoms on grasslands...
Exalted: beauty...
murmuring via the wind...
The wind.
What is the wind to me...
A leaf curls like ash
wafting downward dry and grey...
A perfect prism in singular fashion,
cold to touch but full of passion...
Do not want to rain on anyone's parades
Water is much heavier than atmosphere...
Snow fall covers land
like the flowing river, still...
Drizzling liquid
soaking, filling, nourishing...
The sculptor breathes once
Releasing formed perfection...
After winter dies, born is spring
Renewing the life of everything...
Supposed to bed under Sad poems, but ya nature...
Glittering droplets of water
fall from light grey clouds...