Rocks lying about, listening to water fountains, reminding them of their own times at home where the water used to flow over them.
Reminiscing about the call of mother nature when little stones gathered about the grown-ups.
Always hearing stories of how elders were uprooted and torn from their habitats just to adorn some human being's gardens.
Giving some people beauty, who cannot make it into depths of forests, rivers, and creeks.
Solace being given to hospital patients, some more so than others at Good Samaritan Hospital.
Laughing water, breezes swirling in and around trees, twisting their limbs and leaves in teasing natural phases.
A wonderfully beautiful scene to behold and write into memory's of prose.
Tickling ivories of my mind with a natural high, continuing into rhythm's blissful heaven.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nature has a therapy all of its own, it's primal. Lovely description.