• As a drop of rain, glides down a steam of a flower.
    Is the way the sky cries its shame.
    The stress that comes from above.
    The fragile drop of rain, is not but a tear from a left angel.
    The sadness that collides with wind.
    The wind, that blows through life as a sore of coldness and slightness.
    The silent breeze of wind, is still but there.
    You feel the still wind on your skin.
    Along with the drops of rain on your skin.
    Is not, but nature's call.
    The feeling nature has, is the feeling you feel, when your still.
    Calm,Cold and damp from the waters from above.
    Clothed, but yet your naked.
    The mind that is incontrol of your brain, is there for you to think.
    But your heart, is warm and soft.
    The gift an angel made.
    The redness in your heart, is protected forever.
    Sacred and beautiful.
    That makes your soul warm, loved, and caring.
    Grass that lies beneath you, is wet.
    The smell that grows from green and sweetness.
    The flowers that surround your body as you lay on life's gift.
    Is the treasure your body seeks and finds.
    Life's most precious gifts, are around you and sweet.
    Blue skys that are lit from the sun.
    Shines from the brilliant burning light
    The heat sinks in your skin,
    As the light wind glides through the hair peacefully.
    No sound, but ever so smoothing.
    Gift of the flowers scent, is life's passion and peace.
    Grass that lies beneath you, is but life's carpet.
    The world we live in, is but a life.
    A life with hope and wonders.
    Love is natures way of expression.
    Anyway of expression, is not but love.