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
a 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.