Standing in the veranda of my house on a stormy winter night,
Peeping into the meadows through the darkness of this night;
All I feel is the wind if the nature,
Hitting up against me.
Not as another imposer but the symbol.
The symbol of the truth,
Helping me realize the shallowness of mine
Sitting inside my room full of materialism,
I hear the whistling winds through the thundering clouds,
And as the azure has a flash,
Nature introduces color to the dull sky.
As it begins to rain,
The peacock loses its mind,
The squirrels on the trees find their dwells,
And the whole scenario ends with the mother earth getting her shine.
With the rain empowering it Tyne.