What is free in this world
Is what is best:
The gentle songs of birds
Who know nothing of past or future,
The waft of fresh coffee
On a crisp, autumn day,
The rustling of the leaves above you
As God runs his fingers through the world,
The kind smile of a stranger,
The passing thought of your beloved,
The silence of nature enveloping you
And easing your spirit, lost and weary from the city’s madness.
Do not lose yourself
In the troubles of tomorrow.