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Poetry in Nature

Updated: Jan 28

Here is my collection of my favourite poems about Nature. It beckons my soul, and in the words of Khalil Gibran 'Beauty is that which attracts your soul, and that which loves to give and not to receive.' Feel the waves of peace and spiritual bliss wash over you like a warm sea at sunset. Enjoy!

 


‘God's Gift - Nature...’ by Ravi Sathasivam

When the beautiful morning comes 

The rays of rising sun kiss her 

When the garden of Nature open its heart 

The garden of flowers hugs her to welcome 

When the trees dance to tune of wind 

The birds singing to the nature's choir 

When the gentleness of nature is filled pleasure 

Then the Earth get wet with weather 

When the Nature forgets its vastness 

Then the God shows her how big her place on Earth 

Let us thank God for his creation and given us eyes to see lovely gift - Nature

 

‘Nature's Lullaby’ by Theo Williams

Sounds of singing birds so early in the morn 

Is a beauty in life that no one can adorn. 


Soothing peace of waves gently caressing the sand 

Like embracing lovers, amidst placidity they stand. 


The scent of flowers, paint a smile on thy face 

Surrounded by Nature's love, most peaceful escape. 


Showered by warmth and richness from heavenly rays 

Extracting the best of thy soul, glowing every day. 


Night befalls; the bright moon so tender 

To nature's love and heart I surrender. 


I lay my head down and say goodbye

To N ature's beauty; my sweet lullaby.

 

‘Before The Throne Of Beauty Xxvi’ by Khalil Gibran

One heavy day I ran away from the grim face of society and the dizzying clamour of the city and directed my weary step to the spacious alley. I pursued the beckoning course of the rivulet and the musical sounds of the birds until I reached a lonely spot where the flowing branches of the trees prevented the sun from the touching the Earth. 


I stood there, and it was entertaining to my soul - my thirsty soul who had seen naught but the mirage of life instead of its sweetness. 


I was engrossed deeply in thought and my spirits were sailing the firmament when a hour, wearing a sprig of grapevine that covered part of her naked body, and a wreath of poppies about her golden hair, suddenly appeared to me. As she realised my astonishment, she greeted me saying, 'Fear me not; I am the Nymph of the Jungle.' 

 

'How can beauty like yours be committed to live in this place? Please tell me who you are, and whence you come? ' I asked. She sat gracefully on the green grass and responded, 'I am the symbol of Nature! I am the ever virgin your forefathers worshipped, and to my honour they erected shrines and temples at Baalbek and Jbeil.' And I dared say, 'But those temples and shrines were laid waste and the bones of my adoring ancestors became a part of the Earth; nothing was left to commemorate their Goddess save a pitiful few and the forgotten pages in the book of history.' 


She replied, 'Some Goddesses live in the lives of their worshippers and die in their deaths, while some live an eternal and infinite life. My life is sustained by the world of beauty which you will see wherever you rest your eyes, and this beauty is Nature itself; it is the beginning of the shepherds joy among the hills, and a villagers happiness in the fields, and the pleasure of the awe filled tribes between the mountains and the plains. This Beauty promotes the wise into the throne the Truth.' 


Then I said, 'Beauty is a terrible power! ' And she retorted, 'Human beings fear all things, even yourselves. You fear heaven, the source of spiritual peace; you fear nature, the haven of rest and tranquility; you fear the God of goodness and accuse him of anger, while he is full of love and mercy.' 


After a deep silence, mingled with sweet dreams, I asked, 'Speak to me of that beauty which the people interpret and define, each one according to his own conception; I have seen her honoured and worshipped in different ways and manners.' 


She answered, 'Beauty is that which attracts your soul, and that which loves to give and not to receive. When you meet Beauty, you feel that the hands deep within your inner Self are stretched forth to bring her into the domain of your heart. It is the magnificence combined of sorrow and joy; it is the Unseen which you see, and the Vague which you understand, and the Mute which you hear - it is the Holy of Holies that begins in yourself and ends vastly beyond your Earthly imagination.' 


Then the Nymph of the Jungle approached me and laid her scented hands upon my eyes. And as she withdrew, I found me alone in the valley. When I returned to the city, whose turbulence no longer vexed me, I repeated her words: 


'Beauty is that which attracts your soul, and that which loves to give and not to receive.'


‘A Beautiful Day’ by Francis Duggan

In the blue sky just a few specks of gray 

In the evening of a beautiful day 

Though last night it rained and more rain on the way 

And that more rain is needed 'twould be fair to say 

On a gum tree in the park the white backed magpie sing 

He sings all year round from the Summer to Spring 

But in late Winter and Spring he even sings at night 

So nice to hear him piping in the moonlight 

Spring it is with us and Summer is near 

And beautiful weather for the time of year 

Such beauty the poets and the artists inspire 

Of talking of Nature could one ever tire 

Her green of September Mother Nature wear 

And the perfumes of blossoms in the evening air.

 

‘Nature is What we See’ by Emily Dickinson

'Nature' is what we see— 

The Hill—the Afternoon— 

Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee— 

Nay—Nature is Heaven— 

Nature is what we hear—

 The Bobolink—the Sea— 

Thunder—the Cricket— 

Nay—Nature is Harmony— 

Nature is what we know— 

Yet have no art to say— 

So impotent Our Wisdom is 

To her Simplicity.

 

‘I wandered lonely as a cloud’ (also known as ‘Daffodils’) by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

 

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

 

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

 

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.


'The Call of the Wild' by Alexander Posey

I’m tired of the gloom

In a four-walled room;

Heart-weary, I sigh

For the open sky,

And the solitude

Of the greening wood;

Where the bluebirds call,

And the sunbeams fall,

And the daisies lure

The soul to be pure.


I’m tired of the life

In the ways of strife;

Heart-weary, I long

For the river’s song,

And the murmur of rills

In the breezy hills;

Where the pipe of Pan-

The hairy half-man-

The bright silence breaks

By the sleeping lakes.


'There Will Come Soft Rains' by Sara Teasdale

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,

And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

 

And frogs in the pools, singing at night,

And wild plum trees in tremulous white,

 

Robins will wear their feathery fire,

Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

 

And not one will know of the war, not one

Will care at last when it is done.

 

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,

If mankind perished utterly;

 

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,

Would scarcely know that we were gone.


'The Throstle' by Lord Alfred Tennyson

‘Summer is coming, summer is coming.

   I know it, I know it, I know it.

Light again, leaf again, life again, love again,’

   Yes, my wild little Poet.

 

Sing the new year in under the blue.

    Last year you sang it as gladly.

‘New, new, new, new’! Is it then so new

    That you should carol so madly?

‘Love again, song again, nest again, young again,’

    Never a prophet so crazy!

And hardly a daisy as yet, little friend,

    See, there is hardly a daisy.

 

‘Here again, here, here, here, happy year’!

    O warble unchidden, unbidden!

Summer is coming, is coming, my dear,

    And all the winters are hidden.


'Trees' by Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

 

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

 

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

 

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

 

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.


Poems are made by fools like me

But only God can make a tree.


'To a Butterfly' by William Wordsworth

I’ve watched you now a full half-hour,

Self-poised upon that yellow flower;

And, little Butterfly! Indeed

I know not if you sleep or feed.

How motionless! – not frozen seas

More motionless! And then

What joy awaits you, when the breeze

Hath found you out among the trees,

And calls you forth again!

 

This plot of orchard-ground is ours;

My trees they are, my Sister’s flowers.

Here rest your wings when they are weary;

Here lodge as in a sanctuary!

Come often to us, fear no wrong;

Sit near us on the bough!

We’ll talk of sunshine and of song,

And summer days when we were young;

Sweet childish days, that were as long

As twenty days are now.


'Auguries of Innocence' by William Blake

To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower 

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand 

And Eternity in an hour

A Robin Red breast in a Cage

Puts all Heaven in a Rage 

A Dove house filld with Doves & Pigeons

Shudders Hell thr' all its regions 

A dog starvd at his Masters Gate

Predicts the ruin of the State 

A Horse misusd upon the Road

Calls to Heaven for Human blood 

Each outcry of the hunted Hare

A fibre from the Brain does tear 

A Skylark wounded in the wing 

A Cherubim does cease to sing 

The Game Cock clipd & armd for fight

Does the Rising Sun affright 

Every Wolfs & Lions howl

Raises from Hell a Human Soul 

The wild deer, wandring here & there 

Keeps the Human Soul from Care 

The Lamb misusd breeds Public Strife

And yet forgives the Butchers knife 

The Bat that flits at close of Eve

Has left the Brain that wont Believe

The Owl that calls upon the Night

Speaks the Unbelievers fright

He who shall hurt the little Wren

Shall never be belovd by Men 

He who the Ox to wrath has movd

Shall never be by Woman lovd

The wanton Boy that kills the Fly

Shall feel the Spiders enmity 

He who torments the Chafers Sprite

Weaves a Bower in endless Night 

The Catterpiller on the Leaf

Repeats to thee thy Mothers grief 

Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly 

For the Last Judgment draweth nigh 

He who shall train the Horse to War

Shall never pass the Polar Bar 

The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat 

Feed them & thou wilt grow fat 

The Gnat that sings his Summers Song

Poison gets from Slanders tongue 

The poison of the Snake & Newt

Is the sweat of Envys Foot 

The poison of the Honey Bee

Is the Artists Jealousy

The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags

Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags 

A Truth thats told with bad intent

Beats all the Lies you can invent 

It is right it should be so 

Man was made for Joy & Woe 

And when this we rightly know 

Thro the World we safely go 

Joy & Woe are woven fine 

A Clothing for the soul divine 

Under every grief & pine

Runs a joy with silken twine 

The Babe is more than swadling Bands

Throughout all these Human Lands

Tools were made & Born were hands 

Every Farmer Understands

Every Tear from Every Eye

Becomes a Babe in Eternity 

This is caught by Females bright

And returnd to its own delight 

The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar 

Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore 

The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath

Writes Revenge in realms of Death 

The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air

Does to Rags the Heavens tear 

The Soldier armd with Sword & Gun 

Palsied strikes the Summers Sun

The poor Mans Farthing is worth more

Than all the Gold on Africs Shore

One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands

Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands 

Or if protected from on high 

Does that whole Nation sell & buy 

He who mocks the Infants Faith

Shall be mockd in Age & Death 

He who shall teach the Child to Doubt

The rotting Grave shall neer get out 

He who respects the Infants faith

Triumphs over Hell & Death 

The Childs Toys & the Old Mans Reasons

Are the Fruits of the Two seasons 

The Questioner who sits so sly 

Shall never know how to Reply 

He who replies to words of Doubt

Doth put the Light of Knowledge out 

The Strongest Poison ever known

Came from Caesars Laurel Crown 

Nought can Deform the Human Race

Like to the Armours iron brace 

When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow

To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow 

A Riddle or the Crickets Cry

Is to Doubt a fit Reply 

The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile

Make Lame Philosophy to smile 

He who Doubts from what he sees

Will neer Believe do what you Please 

If the Sun & Moon should Doubt 

Theyd immediately Go out 

To be in a Passion you Good may Do 

But no Good if a Passion is in you 

The Whore & Gambler by the State

Licencd build that Nations Fate 

The Harlots cry from Street to Street 

Shall weave Old Englands winding Sheet 

The Winners Shout the Losers Curse 

Dance before dead Englands Hearse 

Every Night & every Morn

Some to Misery are Born 

Every Morn and every Night

Some are Born to sweet delight 

Some are Born to sweet delight 

Some are Born to Endless Night 

We are led to Believe a Lie

When we see not Thro the Eye

Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night 

When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light 

God Appears & God is Light

To those poor Souls who dwell in Night 

But does a Human Form Display

To those who Dwell in Realms of day


Speak in such a way that others love to listen to you: Listen in such a way that others love to speak to you.


George Bernard Shaw wrote that “Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.” Are you ready to change your mind?


Namaste.


Sending you love, light, and blessings brothers.


Olly



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