Heard Not Seen

What would it be like to see the beauty of the world?

To have the evidence to prove splendour of mother earth?

As I have grown up believing in proof-less evidences

I never saw a single colour, all except darkness.

How angry would the reds be? How profound would the blues?

How pretty would the pinks be? How healthy the green hues?

How jolly the yellows are? Oranges energised?

How lovely are the colours of the sky synergised?

But they were right when they said,

'You value the things you lose'.

For they don't care for the vision

Until they find it's out of use.

But that doesn't mean earth isn't beautiful

My ears capture every moment, gracious or vengeful.

From the chirping of the birds, to bustling busy streets,

Puts me into thought of how God's creativity's a treat.

The winds harmonise into melodious choirs

The rivers become the strings

The thunder claps into percussion sounds

Oh what a natural orchestra it brings!

None of us could've ever imagined

The existence of such wonder.

When beauty is unseen,

The heard can feel its splendour.