Envy Of The Evergreen

Oh, how I envy the river's grace,
That dances freely, knows no place—
No borders drawn, no walls to break,
Just silver trails on glassy lakes.

I burn with green at the moon’s calm glow,
So distant, yet it steals the show.
Each night it rises without fear,
While I hide doubts year after year.

The trees—they stand with roots so deep,
And dreams of sky they gently keep.
They shed, they bloom, they never rush,
While I collapse beneath life’s crush.

The stars, they whisper ancient lore,
Seen by millions, yet wanting more.
They flicker bright without regret,
While I drown in what I can’t forget.

The ocean sighs in timeless song,
Endless, vast, forever strong.
It takes and gives, and still feels whole,
While I lose pieces of my soul.

Why does the dawn arrive so pure?
Why does the breeze know how to cure?
Why must the flowers rise with ease,
While I bend low to every breeze?

Jealous—not of man, nor gold, nor throne,
But of the peace the wild has known.
For I, a storm of want and ache,
Crave the calm the hills can't fake.

So I stare at nature’s quiet art,
With longing etched into my heart.
Not for beauty, but for the way—
It lives, it breathes, and find its day.