An Ode To Joy

I wake to the birds chirping, Soft and bright, Their songs spilling through the window, The sun rising slowly, gold dripping over the hills, And the wind carrying the smell of wet earth and wildflowers. Dew clings to the grass like tiny gems, And I feel it cool under my bare feet. A butterfly drifts lazily past, Its wings painting invisible rainbows in the morning air. The river hums a gentle tune over smooth stones, And the world stretches and yawns, waking with me. Children laugh as they chase kites, Their voices skipping across fields and hills. Dogs running free, tongues lolling, tails wagging, And even the trees seem to sway in delight. Every sound feels like a little song, Every color like paint on the canvas of the day. By late morning, the village is alive: Bread baking, doors creaking, voices calling, Markets bustling with people and spices and sunlight. I walk barefoot through it all, Feeling the warmth of the sun and the soft hum of life Thrum through every part of me. Afternoon comes, soft and golden, Clouds drifting slowly across a brilliant sky. Dragonflies skim the river, Bees busy in the flowers, And everywhere I look, life moves with ease and grace. Even the breeze seems happy, stirring pet