In Echoes of nature, I attempt to establish that the man violates it, hits it, hurts it, and yet its ability to remake is superior to our capacity for destruction.
Most likely one day everybody will disappear from the face of the earth, and I am sure she will find a way to create a new life, and its echoes will be like the beat of a heart that never stops.
ECHOES OF THE NATURE
I like to listen to the echoes of the nature.
In silence, they are present everywhere
like wanting always remember us
they are there, perennial, intransmutables.
They seem waves of a sea that never stops.
They oscillate pendular and they attract my lost glance.
They do not cry, they do not moan, they only are there,
remembering to me that they are echoes of a past.
They are voices of the nature, that announce
Its presence for not to forget,
that the humans, we are of step,
and they, will be always in the dawn.
Debrah Riddleton
