Mountains rise like sentinels,
touching the heavens,
crowned with the frost
of ancient winters.
The valleys cradle flora,
a mosaic of life,
green and thriving,
a haven for the creatures
that dance in shadows,
beneath the canopies
of towering trees.
Every rock and crevice holds
the whispers of time
where the earth breathes slow,
inviting the heart to listen,
as the wind carries tales
of ages past,
in this wild sanctuary.

• Lanford Wilson