The hymn of the earth

In every stone, a story sleeps— The mountain’s sigh the desert keeps. The moon writes phases on the sand, A script for those who understand. The spider’s web, a loom of air, Spins fragile threads of time and care. Each knot a choice, each strand a vow— The past unravels to the now. The river carves its patient creed Through granite bones, yet leaves no greed. Its song declares what words conceal: The strength of flow, the art of yield. The seed that splits the rock in two Whispers a truth both old and new: From smallest cracks, vast forests rise— A hymn in green beneath the skies. The wind that maps the dune’s sharp crest Knows east from west, yet finds no rest. It chants the law of root and wing: To journey is the offering. The path you tread, the breath you claim— Each step revises earth’s great name. For every end, a start takes form— The world remakes where feet grow warm.