The wind whispers softly to you, calling your name.

The warm sun warms your body  like a flame.

The mountains watch you while you sing 

While  you sit on that old tire swing.

The tree is empathetic  to your pain welling,

That fear of sorrow dwelling .

Your heart is broken, tore at the seams in pain

Sitting on this old swing in vain

The sun says "learn"

All you feel is yearn

The moon guards you at night,

nestled within it's bright light.

The ground is rough, like your worn out hands.

Where you have stood on the hill admiring your lands

full of many dreams and plans.

Your wrinkles tell a story of your past

Where your time has come to pass.

Nature's calling you rest.