My First Poem

The Presence

There is a presence in our world, and you can sense it if you look hard enough.
In spring, you can hear it as the birds chirp, and smell it as the wild flowers bloom.
In summer, you can see it as the baby squirrels leave their nests, and taste it as you pick cherries from a tree.
In fall, you can feel it as the cold creeps up, and see it as the wind rushes through the trees.
In winter, you can smell it as we burn wood in our fire  places, and taste it as we lick icicles.
What is this?
Who is this?
I think I know.
Mother Earth.

November 3rd, 2024