Just listen and look.
Close the door to the rush and the roar,
Leave behind what you’ve hurried to find,
Step to the edge of the forest floor,
And quiet the noise in your mind.
You don’t need a voice for a story to start,
No whisper of tongue or of pen,
Just open your eyes and unburden your heart,
And let the wild speak to you then.
Look up at the pillars of emerald and brown,
That carry the weight of the sky,
See how the leaves wear a sun-woven crown,
As the whispering breezes drift by.
They are elders of earth, they are keepers of time,
With rings that remember the rain,
Recording the rhythm of reason and rhyme,
Of sunshine, of shadow, of pain.
If you just listen—truly attend—
To the sigh of the pine in the breeze,
You’ll hear an old mother, a guardian, a friend,
Speaking softly through all of the trees.
They tell of endurance, of standing upright
Through winters that freeze to the bone,
Of reaching in faith for a sliver of light,
And knowing you\'re never alone.
So pause in the stillness, unplug and just look,
Let the forest untangle your days,
For nature is writing an eloquent book,
And whispering wisdom always.