In the stillness of the ancient stone,
Whispers of time have softly grown.
Cracks and crevices, tales unfold,
Of winds and rains, both fierce and cold.

A gentle touch, a relentless kiss,
From nature’s hand, a timeless bliss.
Erosion’s dance, a slow ballet,
Transforming night, transforming day.

Mountains bow to the ocean’s plea,
Rivers carve their destiny.
Granite, sandstone, all succumb,
To weathering’s beat, a steady drum.

Yet in this change, a beauty lies,
In shifting forms beneath the skies.
The art of nature, raw and grand,
Painted by time’s unyielding hand.