Wind blows by
Rustling the grass at my feet,
Whispering its secrets just barely too quiet to hear
A sound like laughter passes me by
As leaves chase each other through my hair
Dancing to the music of the earth
A little brook rushes past,
Laughing at a joke
I hope to one day be told what it is
This world of ours has some kind of magic
Refreshing, haunting, unceasing,
Breathing life into everything that inhabits it.
It’s a special kind of beauty,
One that inspires me day after day.
It is a lovely dear old world,
And I am very glad to be alive in it.