Rushing Of The Rapids

The rushing of the rapids heard, Soothes. As does the walk along a path, Shown to wind through Sun kissed trees. The quietness heightens... With soft and cool Summer breezes. And... The rushing of the rapids heard. Birds of different colors flying. With a landing on the rocks, To catch the mist from fast pacing rapids, Making sounds... Or sending messages I could not interpret, From birds and other creations of God... Within this tropical splendor. And I sit, At the base of an old oak tree. Feeling it... Getting comfortable beneath me. As if preparing for a welcomed and long visit. The rushing of the rapids heard, Soothes. The rushing of the rapids, Heard... Soothes. And I sit, At the base of an old oak tree. Feeling it... Getting comfortable beneath me. As if preparing for a welcomed and long visit. The quietness heightens... With soft and cool Summer breezes. And... That rushing of the rapids, Heard.