This morning the sun rises slowly to meet the sky.
The singing birds freeing their wings from slumber.
As the sun rises clamly, I retreat into my bed.
As birds sing and prance, my mind wanders.
The morning breeze fondle the leaves of trees.
This morning the flowers are like memories.
As the calm wind softly blow, I go.
As the flowers come alive, I die.
I die with the rising sun,
I die with its warmth.
I die and birds sing,
I die in their melody.
I die whilst the wind stream,
I die quietly, without screams.
I die with the scent of blooming hydrangeas,
I die peacefully knowing summer loved me.