The Old One

the mighty eagle,
Here and there flying butterflies.

A gentle breeze blows,
Charming seawater
To the beach the waves crash.

Trees sway in the mouth of the forest.
The stiff one has melted
in a hug
nature that has dozens of mysteries.

Mountain rises,
Clear river winding,
Rigid trees,
My green rug,
which i miss.

My green emerald, honey,
I want you to come back.
You roared thousands of years,
I miss you first.

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Sorry I just returned. For weeks my schedule is not fixed, and, well, I don’t have time to blog.

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