The heavens; a musical sphere of perfection,
That is what I've heard from them, Lord.
We shall aim to find enlightenment in that direction,
Urges my teacher the priest, God.

But I disagree,

In the juicy colorful fruit protruding from the deciduous trees
In the blowing winds carrying leaves and my hair
In the butterflies whose beauty brings tears to my eyes
In the insect noises in the dead of the night

In the new pulsating sun after the cold winter,
In the blobs of clouds that in the sky unfold.
In the grass rejuvenating as it feels the droplets of rain,
In the melody of the waking rooster that never goes vain.

I see the heavens down here amongst us my Lord
They're all blind who don't see that,
You've already given them to us.