What do you say when the sunrise shatters the silence of the darkness with a symphony of sound? Or when the flowers seem to reach for the kiss of the hummingbird and the morning mist dusts the meadow and washes the breeze?
What do you say to the clouds as they seem to respond to your slightest wish, changing shapes and textures leaving only time in itís wake?
To the shadows as they dance in a circle hiding, always moving, always running from the light. Or to the trees that sway in the breeze as if bidding welcome to the day and with the ever increasing warmth, stretching toward the horizon and reaching for the stars.
What do you say to the rose as it speads forth itís beauty and fragrence only to withdraw once more with the sunset?And to the rainbow of colors that bid farwell to the day or the moonlight standing watch in a star lit sky, ever patient ever reaching for dawns first light?