There’s nothing natural About this world; Just miracles We’ve become accustomed to.
A summer stroll did one night yield A luminescent surprise: A harvest-ready lightning bug field With fireflies on the rise. I paused with my family there to note And to watch these miracles fly; Aleatoric embers floating Like living lanterns towards the sky.
As summer emerges from spring in Georgia, the sky’s a Blue Hallelujah. The laughing leaves in the nosebleed seats enjoy the very best view. The wind who once whispered now shouts like a drunk. Though an amicable one, it’s true. The robins hop through the lush green grace under this Hallelujah Blue.
From the interstate I can see The pastures roll and rise Towards the sky In Tennessee