Stones once mighty, now frail and thin,
Weathered by time, where to begin?
The whispers of winds, the dance of rain,
Sculpting the earth, leaving a stain.
Mountains crumble, rivers carve,
Nature’s patience, an artist’s starve.
Through the ages, a story unfolds,
In every crevice, history holds.
Silent witnesses of eras past,
Eroded memories, shadows cast.
The strength of rock, humbled and bowed,
Weathering’s tale, whispered aloud.
Seasons change, but the process stays,
A gentle reminder of passing days.
In the subtle decay, beauty is found,
The art of weathering, profound.