Aura of the north wind’s at home in her field,
dancing and singing with nothing to yield,
her hair disheveled and appearance gone askew,
just blowing, roaming, and so to name a few.
Her raggedy old field too wild and unkept
and worn-out tundra was all that was left.
Gone are the days of vibrant green
and a sprawling verdant to forever be seen.
She was a beauty in her early years before
with her manicured gardens and botany’s lore.
She worshiped the sun and danced in the rains,
and ran up the hills and through the plains.
Behold, I saw her taming the other day,
the tilling of her latent fields on display
while driving westward and around the bend,
the dawning of her coming to life again.
The restoration of her beauty was in the plans
as the blood started running through her glands.
The earth was made pliant for her to dance
and the earth and sun started up a romance.
On my westward driving again I can’t wait
to marvel over nature’s handiwork so great,
and to feel the winds of Aura against my face
while living within the confines of God’s grace.
All life that has come to rest
needs its freshening for what is best.