A pebble amongst millions,
Lay on vast sea bed.
A myriad of sea shells wash,
Upon the beach they ebb.
A hundred billion blades of grass,
Grow around my feet.
A multitude of fragrances,
Drift from flowers sweet.
Sky an immeasurable stretch of blue,
Far above my head.
Tiny thorns, on pretty rose,
Grow in flower beds.
A leaf uncurls in springtime,
As to the tree it clings.
Mother Nature’s many gifts,
That every year she brings.
Heath Gunn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem