Delicate balance,
Sung in whispers of storm riddled wind.
An unusual request, carried out upon the young riverstream.
A tawny brown doe and her young fawn, speckled with white spots.
Nibbling dewed grass in early morn, it appears to be tiny rainbows.
The wildflowers, with their silken petals, droop and die.
And i, seem to cry.
Singularity of nature is all but mostly gone,
No longer seeking the birds,
Instead seeking the bright florescent lights of the city.
Humans blinded by the truth in front of them.
