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No, I don’t want to die forlorn, but in love

And privileged, in arms of my beloved sky that is blue.

Together, fostering my soul with discerning views, lying

Under the prospered olives, the sun’s warming glory,

Reading Walden and listening to twittering of fledglings.

Evenings with jewel flakes of frost, softer hushes and

Mornings with holy wreaths, brisk zephyrs.

Youthful squirrels illuminating my darkened heart with

Hopes and fancies, blessed with God’s nature will.

O’er the mountain, so I would die,revered by

Mother nature, because it is the temple where I am

Epoxied to fauna, nature my home!



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