Nature's creeks of old age
rub a familiar saw
In to the rocks and our bellies
and to anything that will listen
to its pattering and play

The old suprises repeated over again
like a weary joke
sometimes still hold an edge
when told to a fresh audience
or someone who sees meaning in it

A melody braids
from events and the meaning therein
Nature relays
many commands and requests
though she's singing,
so isn't always clear as a creek
as to what Nature is saying

It's this willingness
to communicate
that spurrs the heart
to listen dear,
not only does it go for a song
but is so lovingly beautiful.

Nature tries new things and new ideas
a tadpole becomes a frog
an egg becomes a chick
a bookworm, a novelist
a novelist into a successful author
even her children take after her.

This makes the simple quite complex
from the rocks to our bellies
like a weary joke
that spurrs the heart.
Nature's children take after her.