
To claim nature’s gifts,
and still be oblivious—
blind is privilege.

To claim nature’s gifts,
and still be oblivious—
blind is privilege.

All’s superstition
for those so superficial—
even super moon.

As clear as daylight,
though ominous clouds hover,
fall colours shine through.

All so surreal
if you just let nature be,
all hell otherwise.

In absence of rush
and raised voices, we notice—
nature shines for all.