The Canvas Above
Sky & Nature (இயற்கை / வானம்) — English
No brush could paint this bleeding sky of blue,
Or catch the early morning’s brilliant golden hue.
The ancient trees stand tall in silent, deep prayer,
Breathing fresh life into the heavy, toxic air.
The wind whispers secrets to the emerald leaves,
A quiet, forgotten magic that the heavy heart receives.
To watch the clouds drift entirely slow and free,
Is to know the true, vast scale of eternity.
Tags: Nature Poem, Sky Aesthetics, Peace of Mind, Wilderness
