Photo by scribe for love
They cut all that whispers sweet love when the wind blows
They drained all the melody from brooks and streams
They killed all the smoothness of the water that flows
And they ate all that howls and roars when man dreams
See what a waste the world becomes!
When men have short sight and long dreams
Longer than the need to hear screams
Sent from the future to warn us of the danger that comes
Can any feeling compare?
To the romantic massage of soft leaves
That caress our backs as we lie on shades bare
Under trees in the backyard or at the riverside?
Tell me of a better feeling, a better relief..
Than a tree in sight after a long, dry walk
Or the sound of a stream..
After a tiring hike under the sun