You are a head turn in a crowded station
A mere reflection in a city bus passing by
You with your life embued and color renewed
Like New York after the fall of a subtle June
You are ever growing effortlessly grown
Like bridges and high wires in the sunlit sky
You are stretching and cleverly reaching
Whispering quietly with easy by traffic side
Peacekeeping being of elvish beating
And your heart the very least of things
By which I would wish you too described

No words do the essence of your summer justice
All around and within song
Blessed is the man who sees such beauty each morning
And where it secretly resides