Drops of rain decorated her eyelashes, swinging , clinging and falling. Drops of rain intoxicated her soul, and she ran to the woods yellow and pure. She climbed the tree huge and wide, and watched the clouds swirling in the sky, carrying with them stories infinite, to the mystic land where earth meets the sky, So she whispered her story, to the clouds calm and divine. She whispered her story, with the hope to give them life.
Nature can hear our infinite stories boring or exciting without a word of complain . I think in this age of rush and show we should try to spend more time with nature to share our stories and inject ourselves with life and placidity.