As I sit quietly, alone,
with the birds as my friends,
I watch the orchard
sway with the breeze
and I ask myself:
Is it the orchard, alone, I see?
Or has the orchard become
the miraculous creation
of the wind?

As I sit quietly, alone,
with the birds as my friends,
I watch the orchard
sway with the breeze
and I ask myself:
Is it the orchard, alone, I see?
Or has the orchard become
the miraculous creation
of the wind?