When the lights quiver in clear waters of the river
What does it really reflect? The lights fear? Or waters shiver?

When the butterfly enthusiastically sucks the essence of the garden flowers
Shall we blame the butter fly for its thirst or the flowers for their elegant fiesta

When the autumn winds rush through the trees in quest
Or waft the leaves normally at the season’s behest
Do we blame the branches for their nudity divine
Or the autumn for its continuing the annual bequest

When the sea is sinking down in its tranquility drips
Do we dare to scold the sun for slowly loosing its shine
Or for taking a long breath while leaving the acred sheen
Or the sea at last for sheltering the sun at its setting sceneries

We all perspire and enjoy the delights of mather nature
Forgetting the squeezes we get in the daily chores of loving life