Beautiful are the skies, that are visible to see.
Calling to our spirits, they awaken you and me:
Look up to the Heavens, and search there for awhile:
Awesomeness is speaking, in the most angelic style.
Whispering within the streamlets, of a gentle breeze:
A hundred thousand angels flutter through the trees.
Touching on the universe and leaving us some light,
Guardian spirits linger from morning unto night...
In the hush of morning, before the busiest noise,
Everything is speaking and everything has a voice...
Even the tiniest seedling, and the tiniest little mite
Says something of the wisdom that comes with morning light.
Will we rise and listen and quiet down our mind
Enough to grasp the secrets that instruct us how to find
The happiness and the laughter, the beautifulness and the cheer
That all of the angel spirits are wanting us to hear?