The hot, impartial, clean rays of the sun
are falling on all things, equally.
Their impartiality is questioned
by the small shrubs and grasses, growing freely
in the dark homey shade of the big, proud trees.
Who are soaking up all the light for free.
The bright yellow–green leaves of the trees
are freshly washed and seem to be having fun.
Feeling flamboyant and pretty in the breeze
under the benign gaze of the splendid sun.
Their more modest cousins, the dark green leaves.
Look equally happy to get the sun, after the rain recedes.
Butterflies flutter, over flowers overflowing with nectar.
They do a ballet, as they fly in consonance.
As if they have rehearsed the steps of this beautiful dance.
I can hear the happy chirping of the bird
who has just found a juicy worm,
and wants to proclaim this to everyone.
No one hears the cry of the poor worm
who was just stomached by the happy bird.
Who was but a tiny element in the circle of life,
and his scared little cry uncared for, unheard.
Today, the little worm could not escape its fate
to experience another rain shower in this lovely landscape.