We are vessels, the world's silent scribe,
In nature's embrace, where souls imbibe.
Roots of ancient trees, whispers in the breeze,
We drift in life's currents, like autumn leaves.
In the heart of the forest, where time reclines,
Underneath stars, our essence entwines.
Mountains standing guard, in their majesty,
Echoing our whispers.
Rivers carve stories, on earth's open page,
As we dance through life, from stage to stage.
In the song of the birds, in the rustle of leaves,
In the pulse of the earth, humanity weaves.
Storms may rage, and winds may howl,
Yet in nature's arms, we find our soul.
For we are but travelers, in time's great expanse,
In every petal and stone, we find our dance.
The moon's gentle glow, on the ocean's face,
Mirrors our journey through time and space.
In the still of the night, in the warmth of the sun,
We are bound to the earth, to each and every one.
We are vessels, yet more than we seem,
In the grandeur of nature, we dream our dream.
In the rustling leaves, in the waves' gentle caress,
We find our purpose, our path to express.
For in each grain of sand, in each drop of rain,
Lies the story of life
In this beautiful world, where we learn and we grow,
We are part of a whole, more than we know.
We are natures most flawed instrument,
Yet, our broken noises create the purest of things.
We are the instrument, the world uses for its purpose.
