Thunder rumbles as lightning cracks, into nature we are born. You can hear the thunder like a beating heart, our ancestor's blood flowing through lighting’s pores.
High on a mountaintop, an eagle flaps her wings. Air fills the lungs of the world, in the meadows, the birds they sing.
Rivers race like blood vessels that nourish all the earth. She gives signs and wisdom for all to hear and see, nature shows us the meaning of our birth.
In the forests where we once lived, our forebears would fell trees. The sound of their axes reverberating like a pounding heart, it's clear now can't you see?
The eagle, proud and stern, she sends a gushing wind. In the valley down below a giant oak has given in. He lies in a bed of acorns that were cast from his own limbs. His roots are exposed, for the world to see, jagged and twisting like blood-filled arteries.
The great oak’s shadow is gone now, but the new light shines on new life on the forest floor below. In only a few months time, his descendants will take his place and grow.
Silent are their axes now, one day too your heart will fail to beat again. But, as in nature, we too shall return and flourish upon winters end.
All photography and prose are by me 
