What an ointment for one's spirit and what a blessing for the way
How much the soul has been searching for it: this moment of quiet grace
While the healing spirit is whispering the things we need to erase..
How often are we awakened to the serenading sounding dawn
While birds of every feather are chirping about the moments gone
The skies above are all colorful and are so very anxious for us to see
The beautiful whisps of cloudy mass that create figures for you and me.
Oh the wonderful-ness of the breaking morn... the unique-ness of it all
How often we will fail to notice it even though it can consistently call..
Through the movements of the blowing breezes and the silence of the trees
The Spirit is inviting us all to that greatness that no human eye ever sees...
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