The wonders of the world are outside my bedroom window
In the night, whispered conversations are exchanged
A premature tulip turns to her neighbor to tell her that tomorrow, it will be her day to blossom
The cricket's tune dances in the gentle breeze, carried to faraway places where open windows welcome their song
The birds lounge in their beds made of twigs and brush, their colored bellies swelling with every gentle breath
Their sighs are nature's lullaby; steady and peaceful
In this world, conflict is a mirage
Chaos is a myth
And war comes to a ceasefire
After all, nature needs her beauty rest
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
The wonders of the world are outside my bedroom window
In the night, whispered conversations are exchanged
A premature tulip turns to her neighbor to tell her that tomorrow, it will be her day to blossom
The cricket's tune dances in the gentle breeze, carried to faraway places where open windows welcome their song
The birds lounge in their beds made of twigs and brush, their colored bellies swelling with every gentle breath
Their sighs are nature's lullaby; steady and peaceful
In this world, conflict is a mirage
Chaos is a myth
And war comes to a ceasefire
After all, nature needs her beauty rest
