Stark, the branches wait,
not dead, but in quiet song.
Blossom's kiss to come.

Out of mountain mist,
birds emerge like shadow poems. Trees listen quietly.

A simple blade of grass.
Without fanfare,
it quietly sustains life.

A song bird in flight,
soft wind curling from its wings. Orange blossoms open.

Moving grass gently
caressed by the light of
heavenly star fire.

White chrysanthemum,
purity nested in green,
a gift for my eyes.

Morning sky shinning,
the moon and stars silently
offering morning prayers.

On the horizon,
storm clouds prepare their blessing. A leaf turns upward.

Dark clouds approach like
waves of menacing soldiers.
Time to take cover!

Wind in the blossoms.
A sweet fragrance in the air.
Bees drunk on nectar.

Flakes of crystal snow,
unhurried, they gently fall.
Soft snow geese landing.

A withered flower
bending down in its last breath.
Fresh roses on a grave.

Edge of a red cliff.
Stone from an ancient sea bed.
Water memories.

In silent motion,
reed shadows on the water.
A little heaven.

White blossoms open.
Hungry bees are caressed
in soft, love chambers.

A cloud drifts overhead,
casting shade on a hot day.
A silent blessing.

Indian paint brush,
pink spread across a hillside.
A feast for my eyes.

Yellow columbine,
contented in summer's sun,
seek no approval.


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