We look we see we don’t process
We look we hear we don’t process
We look we feel we don’t process
How much of life will pass us by
And we won’t see the little things in the sky
The clouds the birds the and then we die
We don’t look at the flowers, the buds or the leaves
We miss the worms the butterflies and the webs the spiders weave
The dirt, the roots, the beautiful things we do not perceive
The sounds of the birds and squirrels as they chatter
The opossums and raccoons as they get fatter
The small little lives all around us that clatter
The warmth mom the sun of a spring day
The cool of the wind as it passes out way
The green grass under our feet in May
We look we see we don’t process
We look we hear we don’t process
We look we feel we don’t process
June’s garden
