She would count raindrops and the crashes of waves
She would try to trace
clouds
And try to find a set of patterns for the random sprinklings of stars
in the Dark blanket of night
She remained there, unsatisfied with it all
Until the sky looked down, and told her
To stop for just a moment
To find the simplicity
To listen to the consistency of
The raindrops
The perpetual beating of soft waves
To fresh sand
To look for pictures,
not patterns
To love the evershifting
clouds
It taught her to look around and see beuty,
Not imperfection
And she looked at it,
And smiled
•this is shitty and probably very bad spelling mistakes but idk man I like it•
