Sun

The sun is bright, during its sky flight,
showering its rays of gold.
The flowers reveal, their leaves of light teal,
and the colors that they sold.

The water is still, in the height of the hill,
its ripples barely shown.
Its rushing sound, of life and secrets found,
its greenish-blueish tone.

The colors of the clouds, the wind echoing so loud,
the sunshine seeing through.
The animals cry, slowly as I try,
to hear the air whisper true.

The sun shines gold, as they did the stories it told,
of life thousands of years ago.
The river smiles, all the while,
truly as it will go.