Fiona Anderson Photography
I know the thrill of the grasses when the rain pours over them.
I know the trembling of the leaves when the winds sweep through them.
I know what the white clover felt as it held a drop of dew
I know the quivering of the fragrant petals at the touch of
I know what the stream said to the dipping willows, and what
I know what the stars said when they came stealthily down and
crept fondly into the tops of the trees.
pressed close in its beauteousness.
the pollen-legged bees.
the moon said to the sweet lavender.
Muriel Strode, "Creation Songs"
No comments:
Post a Comment