Do we, in haste, in the wake of living
miss the gifts the Earth is giving?
An afternoon shower that soothes, sustains
as we trudge along complaining of rains.
Golden sand beneath our toes.
Frond and leaf around us grows.
What tiny things have homes there?
Do we even know?
Do we respect the morning dew
appearing always fresh, anew
What we consider simply wet
doth nurture all of Nature, yet
if one looks closely, closer see
the glistening gem a dewdrop be!
At close of day the torch is passed
and Sun gives way to night at last.
Cicada’s song lulls all to sleep
and safely, Earth, Old Moon will keep.
I wonder with each day anew.
Do we give Creation its proper due?
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