This drop, a window, wet with light and land,
Where peaks are pregnant, in a cupping hand.
A panorama, perfectly planned,
Yet just a fraction, of what's close at hand.
For joys unspill, from every sunlit hour,
From every petal, on a silent flower.
A laughter's echo, a sudden, gentle shower,
A hidden strength, that grants the spirit power.
We strain to capture, what the heart can hold,
A finite vessel, stories to be told.
But joy's a torrent, wild and bravely bold,
More than a lifetime, ever could unfold.
So sip, don't gulp, from life's rich, flowing cup,
Let simple wonders, gently lift you up.
For all around, though visions may disrupt,
Are joys uncounted, waiting to erupt.
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