I arose in gray;
I was more Atlas than man
and the world was heavy
Seasons dark and dreary past
had made me hermit
So I looked out my window for hope,
longing for some sight of grace
And there,
the sun;
Apollo bright!
His brilliance almost blinding
But his rays pointed downward,
to one of Fauna's rooted children
In it's juvenile branches,
steadily flowed a song,
so sweetly,
from three little birds
So young they were,
alone,
yet they did not sing of fear
Simply,
they sounded like joy!
Release,
their compassionate carol,
Faith,
their loving lyrics,
Continue on,
their God-spoken gospel,
And with that
the world anew;
prismatic
No worry
Everything was going to be
alright




10 old applause
