Through the rustling leaves, the wind does sigh, A melody sweet that the heart can feel; In the shadows of trees, where the lost things lie, Nature beckons with a promise to heal.

Each whispering branch tells a tale of old, Of seasons changing, of love and loss; In the silence of twilight, we share our souls, In the sacred embrace where shadows cross.

So, let’s breathe deep in this shelter of nature, Find solace in the soft light of gloam; For in this tender moment, we find our truth, In the gentle arms of the earth, our home.

• Arthur Rimbaud