we can touch the sky from the ground, because the sky is never ending
when drawn to a flame the moth risks everything to find out the truth
as the birch tree sheds its layers, new growth appears so it can survive
beautiful colors tell an ominous story in the sunrise glow
the bee understands there is just as much value in the small flower
a lake with no waves is not necessarily without its turmoil
a flower will grow and climb the fence barrier that we’ve constructed
the reflections dance even though they don’t exist in physical form
the sun plays its tricks using the humidity to cast on the clouds
there was nothing here until something happened here now it is a place
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