I cherish this moment:
when the wind rolls in
with floral perfume,
when the grass bends-
as if in genuflection- and ripples,
when the birds warble
and their chirps burst like bubbles
and their piccolo-bones sound
their ascent,
when the children’s laughs echo
and fill emptiness where the birds and wind cannot,
when the trees seem to be carved rocks,
and their buds burst into bloom like fireworks,
when the flowers split into color and scatter
adding new shades with the buds of the trees.
This moment is
exquisitely orchestrated.
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