The trees speak to me, they speak through groans and
creaks.

They whisper through shuttering leaves, and wind blown
branches.

They speak of great wars waged by insects who try to claim
them as there home.

They speak of beautiful songs the mockingbird sang,
and they newborn fauns who take their first breath then
stand.

They tell grand tales of the animals they have raised
and where they go when they die.

The river speaks to me, it speaks with gurgles and
splishes.

It splashes on rocks and banks, it roars down cliffs, into
great pools.

It speaks of the great journeys it has taken, and the sights
it has seen.

It speaks of mighty mountains and beautiful sunsets.

It speaks of vast prairies and humid swamps.

It speaks of love, and the tragedies of war.

It speaks of plentiful food it supplies to fishers.

The sun speaks to me, it speaks through warmth and light.

It speaks of vast sights, where life thrives.

It speaks of dry desserts where life barely grows.

It speaks of births of planets, and deaths of stars.

Nature speaks to me, it speaks however it can.

I listen to nature, and all the stories it has.