Mists flow like water. Pouring.

All forms of life take notice.

Just what is it? Breathing.

It doesn't harm the plants.

Nor the animals in pain.

So boring.

I feel so bored. I was snoring.

Growth of saplings seems rapid.

New trees are forming.

Animals feel no different.

Scurrying just the same.

And now it's mourning.

Now the critters burrowing.

A downpour of rain.

Fleeing and scurrying.

To some, the world is changing.

Old scars healing.

From the mists, pouring.