only in stillness can we find the conditions for true reflection
the flower opens when it is ready, and not a minute before
the storm cloud has passed but we still check the forecast before heading out
the hand of nature over time makes all things rough around the edges
when there is a break in the clouds, some will believe the storm has passed by
even if the storm passes me, it still affects someone i may know
when you find yourself intrigued by the day to day you have found yourself
the flower opens each morning the bee arrives neither wonders why
i’ve heard the tales told that out beyond my window the world, it still turns
to see a flower blooming where it chose to grow sends a message: hope
uptown jack 