Beneath the canopy of ancient trees,
Where whispers of the wind play melodies,
Man walks in silence, heart at ease,
A fleeting guest in nature’s galleries.

Rivers carve their paths through time,
Reflecting skies in colors prime,
Man builds his bridges, sublime,
Yet nature’s force remains sublime.

Mountains stand as sentinels tall,
Witness to seasons’ rhythmic call,
Man scales their heights, feels small,
In nature’s grand, encompassing hall.

At dawn, the sun’s embrace so warm,
Man and nature in perfect form,
Together they weather every storm,
In an eternal dance, they transform.