In every seed, a forest awaits
A lone life that birth her heirs
Even when it dies life was assured
Beyond the reach of garden gates

Image generated using Gemini AI
No clock is wound, no bell is rung
Yet every song is perfectly sung
In the ryhme where nature does her thing
Even in imperfections perfection is made
With quiet strength and patience grace
Reminding us, in bloom and bones
That we are never truly alone
Surrounding us are nature's watch
I like the imagery in your poem, and how you create it with words.
Thank you for your feedback. Just trying to get familiar with poetry
Writing poetry is a lot of fun. Happy writing.
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