In dawn’s soft cradle, the earth breathes light,
Where shadows lift, and day takes flight.
Through veils of mist, each tree stands tall,
Guardians ancient, quiet, and enthralled.

The river hums a timeless song,
Its silver voice both clear and strong,
It curls through stone, past moss and fern,
A dance unbroken, twist and turn.

Upon the hills, where wildflowers bloom,
They paint the air with sweet perfume.
Petals, fragile, kiss the breeze,
Held by roots beneath the trees.

Sunrise spills in amber streams,
Setting the sky in brilliant beams,
It crowns the peaks in fiery gold,
A sight too wondrous to behold.

And where the forest deepens dark,
The creatures roam, each leaves its mark.
Foxes dart in...