Above her head, the wild birds fly, Escaping to the pale light's gleam, Caught between the earth's soft sigh, And the ripples of a timeless dream.

The grass flows like a golden sea, Where velvet currents rise and fall, A whisper from the ancient trees, A quiet, soft, and endless call. She walks into the swirling green, Where earth and sky begin to blend, A landscape carved from painted dreams, That curves and winds without an end. Above her head, the wild birds fly, Escaping to the pale light's gleam, Caught between the earth's soft sigh, And the ripples of a timeless dream.