By Urja Srivastava
If only Mother Nature tutored me, I’d be the finest artist you ever knew. My trees would be a verdant sway, my ponds would have a crystal, azure hue.
My cerulean lake, is just the place for the sterling swans to glide. My lush forests and glades, are the perfect shade for the frisky fawns to hide.
The glittering stars, like eyes of heaven; the moon smiles down through a night of ink. The
break of dawn with its aureate color, streaked with a blush of rosy pink.
The merry twirling flowers; crimson and navy and violet and mint. A picturesque setting of our ethereal existence, a canvas with vibrant tints.
The dazzling white of the snowcapped mountains, melts into a sparkling blue spring. The peach salmon, the playful brown grizzly and the lemon-lime spread of the warblers wings.
Leaves of the maple change from green, to yellow, to orange and to red. Then, as if by a magical stroke, they are earthy cider as they shed.
The multitude of colors, each with hundreds of shades; there is no end to what I could imbibe. I would truly be an inspired artist, if only mother nature was my guide.