It could be that morning rain
drops covering a brave bird
chirping in the walnut tree
next door are reason enough
to celebrate a closeness felt.

Thunder and light and passing time
are nothing if not minstrels
dancing before a king and all
the paupers count themselves
fortunate to pause their duties
and glimpse into the great hall
where even royalty bows to song.

It could be that sand and surf
and mountain pines trailing
toward happiness are the strings
plucked by the lucky few
who crave awareness, peace
found in pine cones fallen.