Earth
In the snail\'s silver track across the soil,
The earth tells its slow tale of eons past.
Worms tunnel, blind architects of crumbly kingdoms,
Tiny empires rise in the shadow of a pebble.
Air
A spider dangles at the end of a thread,
A skydiver suspended in the theater of the breeze.
Invisible fingers stroke the grass,
Playful, teasing the hair on the nape of your neck.
Fire
Candles on an alter glow, little monks in fervent prayer.
The match\'s head flares, a sudden thought in the dark.
Charred logs in the hearth hold court,
Whispering secrets in the language of smoke.
Water
A river meanders, an old man taking his time.
Ice in a whiskey glass clinks like soft laughter at dusk.
Raindrops on windows map out new constellations,
Water, the artist, painting its path on the canvas of the world.