Every year there’s blossom,
as though intelligence within the universe
were blended through the living fabric of the world,
a hidden poetry of silence touching all our days
with something of its beauty,
a silent language whispered in our heart,
inspiring every life.
And in London,
between the showers of rain in April,
wild parrots are screeching in the sunshine,
bringing exuberance
to moments passing like echoes
fading in the wind that sighs in nearby trees,
and as the sun shines in my face
from the early morning sky,
I find myself saying thank you
to something in the universe
words can’t describe.