After the Thunder After the thunder, a silence holds the earth, awash with green, dew puddles rise to greet the sun; prairies roll softly, a touch beneath the shroud of mist a world reborn.
Birds flit above, smiling as a child lifts its head, ears the whispers, the voices of the trees, come follow, the stream calls out, painting all the edges bright!
— Gary Snyder
- Gary Snyder