All beauty of the earth resounds
In songs both wild and free
But learn we must: though it abounds,
Its bounty’s not for me
The trees do whistle, bend, and creak
The birds cry loud and high
And though to hear them we may seek
They’re not for you and I
The earth is its own
And we but a part
Why does the wind whistle so?
Why does it howl and cry?
Why does it lift its voice
So somber and so high?
A brisk wind blowing
The sun shining on green buds
Life returns at last
I once spoke a word
To a little bird
I said, “Sing, o songbird, for me”
I called from below
And it chittered so
High up in the sycamore tree
It hopped fro and to
And I tell you true
It sang high and loud with no glee:
“Begone, noisome one
With your songs be done!
Quit chattering and leave me be!”
Blessed rain falls
Quietly pattering
A soft percussion on a dark night
Whispering
The sun is out!
And so I shout
Of joy and vitamin D!
At last my gaze
Meets with sunrays
Oh, give your gladness to me!
In the moon’s cool light
All the world is pale and still
All awaits the dawn
Blessed yellow light
Shining on the tops of pines
As the sun descends
The sun is shining bright
With warm and heav’nly light
All I can do is lift my arms and breathe
The damp air smells of green
The sky is clearest blue
And at long last the winter’s chill recedes
Wind howls and bites
The ground is icy cold
There is little green
And all slumbers
But life flickers
The sun smiles
Buds peek
Ice melts
The world is set to come alive once more
