Some say, the whispering breeze Is the great speak of love, From where tender doves, From the maple trees above. I ponder the silence, And warmth of the day, As nature’s great beauty Carries my heart away.

It is the trust of a flower, Amidst the green chime, The roots deep so secure, In this sweet little climb, I stand here enchanted, Humbled and still, For nature’s pure presence Awakens my will.

• Henry David Thoreau