Why does the sun blaze down
from horizon to horizon
and the seas heave with
white crested azure
and the valleys seep with enchantment;
the heavens fill to overflowing
with that pure sound,
the sound of angels in praise,
as the wind carrying sweet scents
casts a million petals to the ground
to make such a fragrant softness
beneath the feet?
Why does every mountain spring
gurgle to the surface
gasping to find the air
and set a course ever downwards
until, without hesitation
it throws itself into the ocean,
never once stopping
in shadowed woodlands
or pausing to watch
the apple blossoms fall;
and why do we ever stop to think
if we should surrender
to what is natural in our hearts?
Natural
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