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Watercolor painting with words |
| There’s a circular sea In the center of the center Is an island that grows from a hole And it’s creating a creation Of never-ending seashores And the winds will change as it grows I sit on the banks Of the banks of its mountains And count all the ripples that fold While the water is rising As it rises over sands The sands that cannot Escape its hold The colors are rare It’s a beautiful beauty And the sounds that it makes Are alive And if the fields it is bending Start mending the scenery I know its trees will survive Everything moves And it's moving so swiftly That it all amuses the eye And I watch all the changes As the Master rearranges Every piece and every part Of the sky It’s a birth of creation And nobody’s nation For this place cannot Be claimed It is for the eyes only Forever standing lonely And pure it will Always remain |