When my heart is heavy, laden with dread,
I walk toward the whispering trees
where verdant boughs sway like a cradle
and there, I turn my weary head.
A rill runs through, murmuring secrets
in languages only stones and pebbles comprehend.
The sky paints itself in hues of reprieve,
a palette washing over my anxious thoughts.
O, Nature, in your quiet moments
you sing a lullaby for the restless.
I leave lighter, my burdens softened
by the grace of your unfailing embrace.