song of there

the melody of broken grass
weeping trees
and beaming blooms
of thoughtful pines
sparkling waters
and the scent of old becoming new
what a beautiful song it makes

take me away
to where the flowers sing
and trees whisper secrets long untold
into my ear
where babbling brooks tell tales
of every thing that has passed by
and pines and aspens argue aloud
but they're really friends deep down

i want to go there
away from this place
where the song is muted
the beautiful song set
spinning into motion by the hand of God
at creation
i cannot hear it from here

but if not that
then i wish, in place of the first
to be taught the song of this place
so that i can sing it, too
along with the rest of men