The wind whispers softly to you, calling your name.
The warm sun warms your body like a flame.
The mountains watch you while you sing
While you sit on that old tire swing.
The tree is empathetic to your pain welling,
That fear of sorrow dwelling .
Your heart is broken, tore at the seams in pain
Sitting on this old swing in vain
The sun says "learn"
All you feel is yearn
The moon guards you at night,
nestled within it's bright light.
The ground is rough, like your worn out hands.
Where you have stood on the hill admiring your lands
full of many dreams and plans.
Your wrinkles tell a story of your past
Where your time has come to pass.
Nature's calling you rest.
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I chose the sunrise video to add a nice touch, who doesn't like sunrises??
Thank you reading my poem
-Hannaluver
