It doesn’t have to be

a half filled sky of clouds transporting themselves inches apart shape-shifting into different patterns

or a sycamore tree dancing in the wind with the others following behind it like a big parade

or or the morning black birds singing merely apon the lanes as the spotted ladybug flys home.

It could be a gull squawking loud

or a smooth stone as black as night

or a crack in the wall home to creepers.

Just listen

to the river as it rushes to be with the sea.

Earth’s magical melody singing to your ears.