In the Vale

A vale of blooming pride, Where wildflowers sway, In the gentle caress of dawn, Dusting their petals, With glimmers of morning dew.

Crisp air bites softly, Awakening senses, As bees hum their ancient tune, Waltzing from bloom to bloom, In a dance of endless joy.

Here time stands still, In the heart of nature’s watch, The vale breathes with life, A poem written in color, By the hand of the earth’s embrace.

• Konstantīns Raudive