Music streams through both ears,
Whilst the eyes embrace the view,
The rhythm of the water sings songs no sound could peer,
Save the birds and their charms,
As they circle the riotless air above.
The view is vast,
And the hills tall enough to question comprehension.
A fine summer’s day is unparalleled,
When all the world’s charms combine and combust.
The creation,
Magic.
But magicians couldn’t muster that feeling,
That bores from deep,
Knowing everything that lives in every direction,
Is as serene and delighted,
As the feeling that’s brokered by the silence,
The enchantment,
And the notion that life is full of such exiguous joys.