Wondrous are the ways of Nature
Capturing, hiding the sun in a leaf,
Revealing it in a colourful belief,
Fruits of absolute joy, a treasure.
Giving life to all lives,
Giving shelter to all tribes,
The Nature plays a rhythm divine,
Transforming the woods into a shrine.
Nature destroys the apathetic traders;
Blind, unforgiving, hitting with catastrophes,
Listening not to the heavens, the creators,
But to the Time that heals.
A dense forest or a tiny plant,
Both are Nature’s marvel;
Her ethereal hands are the mantle
That blesses our lonely planet.
- Shakespeare’s Sonnet 107 and Timelessness
- Jasmine-Rich Raga
- Not Lithic
- Spirited Away and the Art of Forgetfulness
- O Apache!