November drizzle is greening
the landscape, I listen as drops
of rain trickle down leaves of
grass, hear a tree's murmur and
sand that sighs under my foot.

An epiphany occurs I'm what
I see, Nature, hurt a plant, and
you hurt me, kill nature and
you eradicate mankind, into
a miasma where Time has died.

You and I, we shall not throw
menacing shadows over land,
yet, we'll live forever when new
Time arise, where air is chaste,
virginal and tastes of honey.