It: was always there, the calling,

In the silence of briars in meadows 

That covered the bloom of heather

And life unseen, in noise of rushed life.

Oh, the sounds of waves that crash 

The rocks, that jutted up in defiance. 

Pebbles applause for the returning 

Tides.

It: was always there, the calling,

In the noise of choirs in shadows

Of swallows that come together,

In nested trees, in this wildlife.

Though, the weeds bloom and mock

The garden’s elegance, they shoot up

In defiance.

Rebels of nature for the returning 

Seasons.