Silent Meadows

In whispers among the grass, a soft rustle that holds my fears, a symphony played for the lonely, a song of heart and home.

Here, the horizon bows to dreams, a canvas of hope painted wide, as the sun serenades the earth, with notes only nature knows.

I lay among the blossoms, alive in this gentle embrace, as the world drifts and sways, a moment carved in quietude.

• María Pizarro