When the morning comes *

When the morning comes
With the sweet murmur
Of a gentle stream of water
Flowing down from hills
Amidst the forest and the green
How we wake up to the chirpings
Of birds and songs of thrush,
As if calling again, us
To go and sit by that river
Which has been flowing forever
And to watch and feel with our hearts' content
How nature has always carried that beauteous essence
Of human life joined in perfect harmonious sense
With all that surrounds it , the trees, the rivers, the lakes,

When morning thus with Beauty and calm claims
Our wonderous soulful existence
Upon this earth, we can only feel dense
Within us, what it really takes
To find pleasure while living so,
Finding in Nature's bounty endless
Our journeys , our sojourns, stays,
Then only we can feel proper the bless
Which mother like nature gives us, always.

(*Note: upon a painting loosely based as attached , done by V. Kopylov, courtesy: Musica Pittura e Dintorni, )

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