Every thing made,
Not from human-kind
As if humans knew
Kindness, From this earth
Has a song each it's own.

The melodies of every stone
Of every branch, from every
Droplet of a wave,
The Wave itself
Lends a message that is held
Together by the sun.

The lyrics cast light
On every shadow
Drawing maps of age
And wisdom along a line of Ink
So fine that it remains hidden
Behind what it means to be alive.

Every thing is a seed
With its own song
Rooting up for no reason
Heavy, even as the weight
Of a raindrop tries to be measured
In its sheer amount, the music will
Outlast this and every season
Beyond this
the orchestra of time.