Read beautiful poems about nature our surroundings allow us to truly appreciate the world. Nature Poems about enjoying the calm, serenity and beauty of nature.
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| Beautiful Poem On Nature |
Nature Poem - 1
No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.
It's flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn't keep up with it,
Not if I ran.
But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.
And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.
So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.
By A. A. Milne
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Nature Poem - 2
It’s true there were times when it was too much
and I slipped off in the first light or its last hour
and drove up through the crooked way of the valley
and swam out to those ruins on an island.
Blackbirds were the only music in the spruces,
and the stars, as they faded out, offered themselves to me
like glasses of water ringing by the empty linens of the dead.
When Delilah watched the dark hair of her lover
tumble, she did not shatter. When Abraham
relented, he did not relent.
Still, I would tell you of the humbling and the waking.
I would tell you of the wild hours of surrender,
when the river stripped the cove’s stones
from the margin and the blackbirds built
their strict songs in the high
pines, when the great nests swayed the lattice
of the branches, the moon’s brute music
touching them with fire.
And you, there, stranger in the sway
of it, what would you have done
there, in the ruins, when they rose
from you, when the burning wings
ascended, when the old ghosts
shook the music from your branches and the great lie
of your one sweet life was lifted?
By Joseph Fasano
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Nature Poem - 3
I love the whir of the creature come
to visit the pink
flowers in the hanging basket as she does
most August mornings, hours away
from starvation to store
enough energy to survive overnight.
The Aztecs saw the refraction
of incident light on wings
as resurrection of fallen warriors.
In autumn, when daylight decreases
they double their body weight to survive
the flight across the Gulf of Mexico.
On next-to-nothing my mother
flew for 85 years; after her death
she hovered, a bird of bones and air.
By Robin Becker
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Nature Poem - 4
Take a moment.
Put the worries behind.
Take in the beauty around.
Let it relax your mind.
Watch the golden glow
Of the rising morning sun.
Embrace the peaceful aura
Of the break of dawn.
Savor the soft caress
Of the gently moving breeze.
Listen to its nifty tune
Among the swaying trees.
Enjoy the lovely scene
Of a floating butterfly.
Graceful flight and happy tweets
Of a bird perched up high.
Peruse the evening sky
In its dazzling splendor.
The wide and open pallet
Merging shapes and colors.
Relish the loving sight
Of children having fun,
Skipping feet and carefree voices
Under the setting sun.
Spare a still moment
Every once in a while.
Take in the beauty around.
Take it in with a smile.
By Abimbola T. Alabi
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Nature Poem - 5
The world outside is a wondrous place,
Filled with many miracles to see.
It's a place to hear and smell and feel.
It's a place so unfettered and free.
From the welcome warmth of the morning sun,
As it plays upon your eyes,
Enticing you from your slumber
To awaken and come alive.
Or the gentle touch of an Autumn breeze,
As it chills and caresses your face,
Beckoning you to start your day
And let go of the night's embrace.
The sound of the birds as they twitter and sing,
Still nestled in the warmth of the trees.
Soon they will lift their wings in flight,
Shooed away by the fluttering leaves.
To smell that earthy, Autumn air,
As you step outside and breathe.
To hear that steady, familiar crunch,
As you wade through the dried, dead leaves.
To look up and get lost in a ceiling-less sky,
Deep blue or an ominous grey.
Squinting against the brightest of suns,
Or getting soaked by a sudden, cold rain.
To feel beads of sweat on your clammy face,
In the heat of a blistering day.
Then submerge in a river that seeps through your skin,
Dousing the fire in your veins.
To trudge through the deepest, blistering snow,
As the ice stings your rosy red cheeks.
To smell all the fireplaces burning,
As those faint of heart retreat.
To see your breath float on the air,
As your toes and fingers freeze.
And witness an icy, white blanket of snow,
Just as far as you can see.
The snowflakes falling harder now,
The earth is in a blur.
Your clothes feel damp and heavier,
Your speech begins to slur.
Yes, the outside is a wondrous place,
A world of beauty and brawn.
It's independent but so reliable.
It's vulnerable and yet so strong.
Remember the smell of the summer flowers,
With bright colors all around?
Deep green lawns and the aroma of grass,
Trees plush with leaves abound.
The ocean's glistening, thundering waves,
The gritty, infinite sands.
The forests of trees that reach up to the sky,
The mountains that tower over the land.
The outside world is an endless place.
It shows us how small we can be.
It can nurture and comfort our troubled hearts.
It can grant us sweet moments of peace.
If you take the time to really see,
The outside is a glorious place.
And how lucky we are that this Paradise,
Is only a few steps away.
By Pat A. Fleming
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