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Gentle, the breeze flows through the wide open grass,
the plains so full of life, green and swaying,
ever so gentle, like the gentle touch of a mother to a newborn,

Softly the bird sings its simple sweet melody,
high up in the shady tree where only wind rain and sunshine can touch,
ever so softly, carrying on like a endless sweet melody,

Silently she stands amidst the wind and the song,
watching out at the open flowing plains, and the soft singing of the birds,
ever so silently smiling at the creation before her,

Embracing, the quaint yet beautiful rose within her hand,
smelling its bittersweet yet lovely scent as it travels around her body,
ever so embarrassingly grasping to its long thorn less stem,

Violently the thunder rolls off in the distance,
the dark ominous clouds approaching like venomous deadly serpents,
ever so violently coming closer to catch her within the midst of its thunderous wrath,

Vigilantly standing, in the cool open windy fields where the birds sing,
she watches as it approaches, welcoming the cool pouring rains, unafraid,
ever so vigilantly waiting for nature’s fury to be unleashed,

Willingly she stands in the turmoil of the rain, wind, lightning and thunder,
standing strong in natures wrath, showing her braveness in the midst of the storm,
ever so willingly to wait, to hear the song of the bird, and sound of the calm flowing grasses of the tranquil fields,

Proudly standing her ground, she waits as the storm gives in to her will,
blessing her with the warm sun after, to cool her soft skin from the cold pouring rain,
ever so proudly staying through the storm, gaining patients, virtue, and tranquility once again,

Through the midst of the storm.