The radio played an old song this morning.
It brought me back to a long ago time.
My feeling of peace was an unexpected gift.

I remember how the song brought a treasure.
It showed me truth and beauty around me.
I recall the precious life I have been given.

A song is a tiny seed in its composer’s hands.
The producer provides fertile soil and light.
The musicians reveal a beautiful flower.
I find its fragrance in my heart so I smile.

W. Wayne B.