Beneath the sky, a quiet plea,
the earth hums softly, wild and free.
A breeze unfolds the hidden lore,
of days long past, and hopes once more.
The trees, they speak in a whisper, roots deep and firm,
Of promises, man must keep.
The rivers sing, their currents swift,
A fragile bond, a timeless gift.
But Towns and cities rise, and shadows grow,
The scare of progress starts to reveal itself.
Yet in the dark, a glimmer remains,
To mend the world and heal its pains.
So let us trend with care and grace,
To leave no hurt, no bitter trace behind.
For in our hands, the future waits,
A choice to mend or seal its fate.