How much kinder?

The breeze crisp as fresh honey from a hive 

Sun shines through the trees 

Like a piece of gold.

As I recline against the trunk 

And feel the soft moss 

That guards the animals' homes inside.

I see kites swooping like mad mother magpies

How much kinder can they be?

Imperfect leaves falling from trees

Clouds are smoke in a burning fire  

Dirt dry as a giant drought 

Tears are 

The only water alive 

How much kinder do we need to be?