It holds rivers that curve and reach, like a snake with purpose,
who seeks a spot to lay its eggs
It beats a steady song, like the wind making clouds move
Its mountains reach as high as the tallest library bookshelves
Its canyons are as deep as a rabbit’s empty burrow
Its forests are as thick as an oversized, 1800’s chapter book
My heart listens to nature, holding the sounds like pages
turning in a book
On the map of my heart, home is marked with a gold and red string,
keeping the place of my favorite passage in a treasured book