Water drops,

Refresh the world.

Much like tears, ...

Waking up,

With the sun,

Is a gift. ...

On rare occasions,

Nature reiterates,

Scenes already seen. ...

No two are the same.

They fly,

Cry, ...

Opening up,

To let the world,

Peek within, ...

There are moments,

Passing by,

That eyes cannot see. ...

When life,

Turns confusing,

Or disorganized, ...

To stand out.

Appear different,

From the crowd. ...

And now,

They’re side by side.

Slowly extending, ...

An early morning,

Infrequent scene,

When clouds descend, ...

Hair turns grey,

Leaves change to brown,

Trees decay, ...

Every day,

I awaken with a choice.

To face the day, ...

Opportunities,

Are like doors.

Sometimes unappealing, ...

At times,

Days never seem to end.

Piles of problems, ...

I’ve walked those lands,

Planted trees and vines,

Made oil and wine. ...

Amusing creativity,

Is often seen,

When children play, ...

Beauty,

That surrounds,

And lays close by, ...

Town center,

Pure happiness,

Or mere peacefulness. ...

Snails may be slow,

But also brave.

They let the world, ...

Construction,

Or refurbishment,

Is a fact of life. ...