If I could be me

As much as a tree trees

How wonderful life could be

Nature exists in perfection. It becomes the verb of itself. A tree trees, air airs, earth earths, fire fires. They perfect what they are supposed to be. If we as individuals take ourselves as a verb and perfect the being that we are, then great heights we can reach and wonder of all ages we can see. If only we can commit to be the verb of our being.