By the blinking of eyes,
Seeds become trees,
By the flow of rivers,
Leaves become green.
By the flow of winds,
Flowers become happy,
By the chirping of birds,
Trees dance.
Fruits were hanging,
About to fall,
Children were jumping under the tree for the fruit,
About to catch.
Animals were seeking shelter,
Trees are in the centre,
The leaves make sound,
That heals our inner wound.
May, 2025
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