The breeze sweeped my face
The buzzing of.childrens muddled language
The roses smiles could even make the slightest of noise
The holding of eschothers hands vibrated the rustling of life
Conversion of the normal
The disconnection of the seasons sweepings
The grounds blanketing leaves
The ducks spoke in a friendly tone
We must need nothing else
The grandparents of old school disinclined and teachings echoed just enough for me too hear
We just need to listen
And we will learn all we need in the world