The mountains cradle the clouds, a soft embrace, providence, each fold a mystery,
whispered ancient songs of time— of the sky, of the earth, of us yet unformed.
As we tread softly, let us listen, for in every rustle of grass, in the dampness of our skin, in the heat of the bulbous sun— there lie the tales of resilience, the untold stories of nature, yet our mendable being is too.
Together exposed rather, a challenge for the spirit to mend, these are the gatherings of the day.
- Nadine Gordimer