Cuts at the grass, in these fields
of abundant life. The beauty of little; is
the most we'd all appreciate.

And as I yield in the fields of their many flowers.
Beauty, is the something only belonging to the
particular eye. A keen to thought; as you tell yourself
'he or she, is so lovely,' in your head at first.

And as the sights capture your words,
the experience of beauty has you in it's grips.

Oh how an experience lasts a moment with
experience. The beautiful moments I've had;
how could I ever lose the experience?

The experiences of love, and heartbreak. Of healing,
and hurt. Of wholeness, and brokenness. And of having,
and not. The beautiful moments I've had; how could I
ever lose the experience?

I am the present character, from past experiences.
And the future character, from what I've learnt from
present experiences.