nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
What Was Meant for Me
Aamir sat quietly on the rooftop, the evening air heavy with the scent of rain. From up there, the city looked calm and balanced. Lights shimmered across the streets, people moved in their own rhythms, and for a moment it seemed like everyone had what they needed. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t true.
By MUHAMMAD SHAFIE4 months ago in Poets
Whispers Above the Clouds
Whispers Above the Clouds A Rainy Day Reflection with Tea on the Mountain's Crown The sky leans low with a silver frown, As raindrops kiss the mountain's crown. I sit where earth and heavens meet, Tea in hand, the silence sweet. Clouds drift like thoughts I’ve left behind, Their edges frayed, their paths unsigned. Each sip a warmth against the chill, Each breath a moment standing still. No roads below can reach me here, Where wind and whisper both are clear. The world fades soft, the rush undone— A poem steeped in mist and sun. Ink runs slow on dampened page, As nature turns another age. Yet in this rain, in sky so wide, A quiet joy begins to rise. For what is life, if not a climb, With moments like this, lost in time? Above the noise, above the crowds— I found my soul among the clouds.
By Muhammad Saad 4 months ago in Poets
Whispers on the Wind
Whispers on the Wind Rainfall and Reverie at the Mountain's Crown I climbed where silence wears the sky, Where clouds and cliffs in stillness lie, Each breath a hymn, each step a prayer, Above the noise, beyond despair. The rain began—a soft ballet, Its silver threads in gentle sway, No thunder roared, no storm was near, Just whispered truths I came to hear. The wind, it spoke in ancient tones, Of moss on stone and weathered bones, Of suns that rose, of stars long gone, Of all that passes, yet lives on. Below, the world in shadow slept, Its dreams in folded valleys kept. But here, where earth and heaven blend, I felt beginnings, not the end. Each raindrop kissed my lifted face, A quiet blessing, a small grace. Not lost, but found without a sound— In rain, in sky, on sacred ground. So if you seek what can't be taught, Where storms bring peace, not battles fought, Then climb the path, and let rain spin Its whispers on the mountain wind.
By Muhammad Saad 4 months ago in Poets
Rays of the Rising Sun
Rays of the Rising Sun Embracing Hope with Every New Dawn Each morning paints the sky anew, With shades of gold and gentle blue. The darkest night must step aside, As light returns with quiet pride. The breeze is soft, the world is still, Yet every leaf begins to thrill. The sun climbs high with steady grace, A warm smile on the planet’s face. No dream is lost, no hope too small, The dawn has room to hold them all. It whispers, “Try just one more day,” And gently clears the clouds away. So rise, dear soul, and greet the light, Let go of worry, fear, and fright. For every sunrise starts a song— A chance to heal, to grow, belong.
By Muhammad Saad 4 months ago in Poets
