There’s a heavy silence this breeze-less early morn,
A contrast to the chaos, the day cities were born.
Not a breath of air, the stillness of each leaf,
A picturesque clear landscape, beauty beyond belief.
The solitude perforated by a happy mockingbird’s song,
A prelude to the chorus, which will surely join along,
And sure enough, the air becomes magically transfuse,
Via the ambiance of a choir, with colorful, harmonized views.
And now, the scene is in tune for the Sun to take its cue,
Conducted by a timekeeper, united to earths milieu,
The horizon suddenly awakens in a blaze of sugared crimson fire,
Flames of warmth radiate, across the skies of pleasurable desire.
A butterfly forms; its wings begin to flutter,
Magic is in the air, Love and Joy embrace one another,
The world has come alive, rejoicing in dimensions drifting higher,
Spirit orchestrates a unity, beneath the skies of pleasurable desire.