Now this verse was inspired by a quote from John Keats, that both @breeze420.bsky.social & @createnewpaths.bsky.social posted in recent days. Those words about nature's poetry stuck in my head, and off I went this morning rambling on, as I tend to do.

Image: In a fast flowing river, rocks have formed a partial barrier, where the water runs into it, creating white water splashes and some white foam. Sunlight spotlights the white, making it brighter. Text: Nature’s Poetry Only when you still your mind, vacate it of all which the world would fill it, can you hear the poetry of nature steady your heart, let your hearing free to listen for beauty, which words cannot form, poems woven on nature’s songlines the gurgling, foaming water, tells of a long journey from the mountains to the sea of the translucent winged, blue tinged dragonfly, perched gently on a smooth, river sculptured rock, resting in the muted early light of the sturdy, hairy wombat, dipping his bare nose into the crystal clear, cool, running water, shaking his head, spreading rainbow filled droplets into the air of the platypus puggles, basking on the sandy river bank, before chasing one another under the water in search of their mother nature needs no pen, book, to scribe such poems, she composes them daily, leaving them on the tree bark, coloured blooms, swirling winds, dense rainforests, snow capped mountains, deep gorges, meandering rivers, ever changing oceans, barren undulating deserts she hides them not, for her desire is for her poetry to be heard, read, and imbedded into the souls of all creatures can you not hear … nature’s poetry surrounds you