Let the wild flowers sing you a lullaby
For oft I hear your wearied sigh,
Sweet melody, may your worries fly,
Your mind unburdened, soar happily into the sky.

Let Nature her precious riches keep,
Let not the rot of modern civilization into her seep.
Modern man, ever engaged so busily,
Nature, she waits for you patiently.

To her bosom then, you must return,
Her silent teachings, you must not spurn.
Shed your disguise of deceit,
Confess, beg pardon, fall at her feet.
Become naked, innocent once more as a child
Awake, Arise! Treat Mother Nature mild!

NOTE: When you remain in silence, you can accept Nature’s teachings more easily!

Treat Nature mild. Amber Sky reflection in the lake Photo by Dave Hoefler Unsplash