A notion of nature

All I want to do is cry. 

With this yellow sky above
And green earth below,
And the blue in between.

I see the red tree trunks and
I want to hug them,
Let their dust fall on me.
As I am dust itself, 
it does not matter.

Now the sky turns pink,
And tiny birds fly towards home.
And the silent wind blows through the lonely trees.
Don’t worry I am here.

I am barefoot and the dry grass is prickly to my hardened feet.

The birds call for home,
And I am standing still.
And the birds call for home, 
And I am walking .
And the birds call for home,
But I don’t find mine. 

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