The dance of morning

Whispering winding breezes, land softly on the trees
And suddenly they are dancing..and moving in the breeze
Like artists, who are on broadway; or dancers on the screen
The  oak trees and the pine trees start to sway gracefully and serene

Then the grass blades and the flowers pick up quickly the routine
And instinctively start flowing into some arabesques pristine
Like ballerinas and the danseurs they grace our gazing eyes
With wonderment and beauty and with sweetness from the skies

We see this, all God's beauty: all this exquisiteness all around
And are pulled into the rhythm and are soothed by all the sound
But our hearts are always seeking something new despite the price
Yet nothing can ever compare to this beauty before our eyes