The phenomena’s of nature
are nurtured like a mother.
She never favors one over
another. Although her rose-child
may be her comeliest flower
she bestowed on sister sibling
blooms the sweetest scented perfumes.
Her spiders all weave their webs with
fine, sticky, silken filaments’
She gives potential prey a way
avoiding it with fitting wings
and legs. Then there are we who set
ourselves apart from her, only
to be reminded otherwise.
Comments about this poem (Nature by Albert Ahearn )
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