Natures Voice

It is but with nature that one is truly alone if he desires.

There are voices in nature that one may hear if only nature is allowed to whisper its timeless treasured voice of reason.

The reason of existence, acceptance.

Its voice rings silently the tone of the seasons.

In Spring it is rebirth, in Summer it is joy, in Autumn it is sadness and in Winter, oh yes the cold, bleak frigid days and nights of ole man Winter, it rings the tone of death.

One may see that mans life is of but the tones of nature.

No more and no less.

He begins and he ends only to begin and end again, and again, and again …

You see this day I visited nature, nature and I together, alone, nothing more.

Nature spoke in the tone it knows only as Winter.


"Do not be fearful my child, it is only death.

Death may bring new life.

Nature is never wrong, only man is wrong.

Come listen with me.

Hear the sounds of death.

They are but beauty no less than the others.

It is frigid this day my child, bundle up as you come with me.

Hold my hand; do not be afraid, death in nature is but natural.

Listen; listen well as the lessons of life and death are revealed.

I say hush, … sh sh sh.

The voices come.

Did you hear it?

Listen carefully!

Hear the sounds of death.

Feel the stillness of solitude.

Feel the chill of the melancholy wind as it blows through the barren trees with frowns on their bark along the bayous edge.

Feel and listen to the falling snow so white against the shroud of gloom encircling us.

Run my child, run back to the warmth of your home.

You shall return to it one day, one day when you will understand Natures Voice.

It will always be the same, never changing, never erring, no never erring like the wickedness of man.

You see nature is perfect my child and man is not-death."


Submitted by David Allen Monier

About the Author: I am from Louisiana's Bayous. A warm welcome to my blog DAM is being extended to all.