We witness her beauty with eyes that won’t see

What was and what is, and what ought to be


Nature our teacher, from the roots to the tree

Plundered for profit, what she gives us for free


But on the horizon with eyes that must see

What was and what is, and what ought to be


Paint me a picture

Weathered and wise

Today not tomorrow

Leave the disguise


It’s not hard to see faces

Worn and weary cases

Drifting between raindrops

And the silence between spaces


So paint me a picture

As tall as the moon

Show us some wisdom

Say now never soon



Where the river flows through silent veils

In the sheltered forest her spirits rise


On hidden waters and forgotten trails

Beneath the shade of sacred skies


In the silence we heed her hails

For ancient wisdom in peaceful guise


Gentle is the morning light

In the garden of earthly guise

Awakes the dawn from weary night

And greets the day through nature’s eyes