A light breeze washes away faint sounds of
leaves brushing against the sky, spent whispers
urging, in hushed voices, gentleness and purity.
But the dead leaves on the ground and the humus
teeming with ravenous creatures bent on sating
their appetites refuse the beseeching call.
Nature has a way of tempering serenity with
abject rage and chaos with utter tranquility.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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