From The Room

I can see the vast sheet Of the sky. Unfolded to miles. Black dots of birds change Places under cotton clouds I can see the simmering Water of the stream reaching To the flatness of the blue Canvass, whispering amidst Tall trees by its sides. I can see the parched land Slowly turning green with Fresh seeds sprouting and Lively music is being played By the wandering shepherd. The wafting breeze carries The fragrance of the wild Flowers blooming on the Lap of the hills and sends Me into a trance with its Soft and caressing touch.