In the garden, a bird, a flower
gold the edge, gold the dawn that hovers
a song of summer, a tiny sparrow perched
long upon the woody yarrow, that musky fills the air
a redolent warmly breeze, brushes by the maple trees
caressing sweet the singing leaves and breathes the air of heaven
in the gold of a halcyon summer
beyond the hills of sage, grey plumes
the stark blue sky cloudless looms
and sings with birds in lilting waves high above the field
they break the silence in a world transformed
a song – void of man’s ordinary words.