In the gentle cradle of the earth’s embrace,
Where roots weave tales in silent grace,
The leaves murmur secrets to the night,
Beneath the moon’s soft, watchful light.

The vines climb with a tender touch,
Seeking sun, yearning much,
Their tendrils dance in a gentle breeze,
Whispering stories among the trees.

Flowers bloom in vibrant hues,
Painting the world with their muse,
Each petal a whisper of ancient lore,
Telling tales of those who came before.

In the stillness of the garden’s heart,
Nature’s song plays its part,
A symphony of growth and peace,
In the quiet, life finds its release.