It is raining, though it is winter now, a severe winter, a night of deep cold. The baby birds sleep soundly under the warm wings of their mother; a nocturnal heron flies away, while a broken-winged crow stays awake—alone, alone, alone through the night! It has no companion, for one spring it drifted away to the land of fallen leaves and death.Yet, humans still love the earth, though the earth has never loved humans. Both humans and the earth know this truth, and yet, this love persists.
It Is Raining: A Poetic Reflection on Nature’s Beauty
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