O joyous moments, sweet and rare, when sunlight drips like honey down onto petals blotched with dew, as birds send their songs to the sky.

The warmth of nature’s laughter can cradle the heart in its palm, a tender embrace in the wild, a promise blooming, rich and warm.

Let us stand in the midst of it all, of art and rhythm from unseen hands, filled by life’s generous spilling out into the arms of the wild.

• Sara Teasdale