Beneath the vast and endless sky, they roam,
In fields where golden sunlit grasses sway,
The gentle giants find their humble home,
With eyes as deep as twilight’s softest gray.

Their whispers blend with rustling leaves of spring,
A symphony of peace in morning’s glow,
Each step a dance, a slow and graceful swing,
In harmony with streams that gently flow.

They gather ‘neath the shade of ancient trees,
In quietude profound, they rest and dream,
Of times when earth and sky were one with ease,
And life was but a flowing, endless stream.

Oh, cows, your presence calms the weary heart,
Your silent gaze, a balm for troubled mind,
In you, nature’s art plays its gentle part,
A truth so simple, yet so hard to find.