In the forest deep, I wander, Where silence breathes like sacred air, Among the trees that frame my soul, Enigma of the wild’s affair. Each leaf, a verse of nature’s play, Rustles secrets, soft and clear, While the light dances through the branches, Kissing earth with warmth sincere. Here I listen to the stillness, Every moment, pure and rife, Nature spins her silken web, Weaving poetry into life.

• Marina Tsvetaeva