The Way of the World

A bird sings
The wind whistles
Through the trees
The sun shines
Brightly on the forest
Green grass glows
Radiant in the light
A snowy white cloud
Covers the sun
All is dark for a moment
Cool, shady.
A squirrel scampers
Quickly across a clearing
As the sun reappears
The day resumes
Ignoring the pause
And the bird sings again.

     - Bem Jones-Bey