In the whispers of the ancient trees,Man finds solace in the rustling leaves,A gentle bond that time does not erase,Where nature’s heart and man’s spirit interweave.Upon the rivers, reflections of the sky,Man sees his dreams in the rippling flow,Each drop a story, a memory in the by,Nature’s canvas, painted with life aglow.The mountains stand as guardians old and wise,Silent witnesses to man’s fleeting stride,In their shadows, humility softly lies,Teaching lessons of patience and pride.Yet, as man treads with careless feet,Nature’s cry echoes across the land,A reminder that the dance is bittersweet,And harmony lies in a gentle, guiding hand.