The music that streams from the unfathomable cosmos

Touches my heart and my very being every single day.

Oh! I hear it when the waves kiss the sand in deep eros

On every bay   and when they leave the sand with empty say.

I wonder; are the stagnant sand grains preordained to muse

Whether there’s true love or whether they’re turning as a prey

Of the waves’ transient lust that withers within a trice?

From a pine scented hillock when I hear a nightingale,

Tunefully singing in the middle of a tranquil night,

Whose variant and magic notes surpass a Chinese flute,

And when her song reverberates in every mount and dale,

I wonder how this little plumed being can deliberate

Such sweet notes sweeter than what mortal maestros can create?

I sense then, man’s music comes but from nature’s music trail.

When the grass tops and treetops gently sway in glory,

And when blooms spread their sweet scent to delight those who tarry ,

I feel there is a hushed music that enthralls the flora,

The fauna and the placid man whose hearts beam in aura;

Fashioned by the silent songster whom we all call the breeze,

Whose silent music and touch leave us in mildness and ease,

That reminds us of our God’s loving presence without cease.