Surrounded by amethyst,
Soft glow of declining sun.
Kissing abundant wild flowers,
Waltzing in days end.
Rolling hillsides, resting deer,
Antlers glow in soft crushed velvet.
The meadow lark’s trill,
Can only calm and surely thrill.
Softly, lovingly his paintbrush wields,
This beautiful sacrament,
Of nature’s way.
I took a backward look,
And sipped the last,
Of solitude’s wine.
copyright Es-tee Miller
“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace
will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will
blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy,
while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn”…
– John Muir