She soon follows the path

Of rustling leaves

The birds singing in harmony

Tuneful and so sweet.

Twigs and broken branches

crunch under her feet

It is chaotic yet so peaceful

With thorns in her way

But the hoot of a white owl

Beckons her forward.

When the night finally falls

The moon greets her

Glowing with imperfections

But still beautifully grey

Alas a clearing

To appreciate the wonderful nature

Which should be untouchable

And is irreplaceable

And the most valuable thing in the world.