In the gentle caress of time’s embrace,
Stones surrender to whispers of the breeze.
Mountains crumble, yet leave no trace,
As nature carves her masterpieces with ease.

Rain sings softly on weary hills,
Echoing tales of ancient lore.
Streams carve paths with patient wills,
Turning stone to sand, forevermore.

The sun’s warm touch and winter’s chill,
Each mark their passage on the land.
Weathering writes its story still,
With every grain of shifting sand.

In every crack and crevice deep,
Lies the tale of ages past,
As earth in silent slumber keeps,
The legacy of changes vast.