GOLDEN RAYS AND SLEEPING BEAUTY

The birds chirp; they sing the sun to a rise.
Golden rays tearing through mist in the early morn; throwing off a spectrum from curvy prisms of Dew drops on flower petals.
Morning glory, white roses and red, and mosses that grow on tree backs:
The air is dense with the fragrance of vanilla.
Sweet scent of a damp morning warping my nostrils:
And I wondered; could this be how beauty blooms?
In the sun rise. Carried on scents of flowers. Sang by the birds.
Yes, this is how beauty blooms.

Fire flies light up the fields. The crickets squeak their mates to a welcome. They mate.
The breeze is light. The grasses sway, dancing to the silent drum beats the oceans bring.
The squirrels scamper.
The owls take flight.
The other animals don't know night:
They snore on.
And I wondered; could this be how beauty sleeps?
With ocean blowing her a lullaby.
The grasses swaying in worship to the ocean.
The fireflies bringing light to her fields of green,
and the moon taking the place of the sun.
Yes, this is how beauty sleeps.