I wallow in the pasture
Amidst a tradition of grace
The planet's soul has alit
And glorifies my resplendent face

To dance with the birds and bees
Is to sing to the tune of the wind
All the foliage sways to the music
Aware that against nothing its sinned

As the autumnal glow
gilds the land with power
The forces of beauty
Leave me no option but to cower

Is it a golden sphere so small
that paints the world with all its glory?
Is it the vernal hue
that ornaments this planet and urges its story?
And is it the flora and fauna
That keeps it forever ambulatory?

Before my lays life's greatest show
Performed by infinity, conducted by simplicity
It's beyond my grasp, this portrait of a symphony,
but is it not the core of felicity?