In the quiet whispers of the forest,
Where shadows dance with light,
Nature’s song is ever present,
An endless, wondrous sight.

Leaves rustle secrets to the wind,
Rivers hum their ancient tune,
Each element in perfect harmony,
Beneath the watchful moon.

The grasslands stretch in silent praise,
To skies of azure blue,
Mountains stand as timeless sentinels,
In reverence, strong and true.

Oh, Walt Whitman, you who heard,
The voice of nature’s heart,
Your words still weave the symphony,
That sets our souls apart.