Art Is The Tree Of Life. Science

When The Sun Rises, Do You Not See A Round Disc Of Fire Somewhat Like A Guinea? O No, No, I See An Innumerable Company Of The Heavenly Host Crying Holy, Holy, Holy Is The Lord God Almighty.

Sweet Babe, In Thy Face Soft Desires I Can Trace, Secret Joys And Secret Smiles, Little Pretty Infant Wiles.

Can I See Another's Woe, And Not Be In Sorrow Too? Can I See Another's Grief, And Not Seek For Kind Relief?

Where Others See But The Dawn Coming Over The Hill, I See The Soul Of God Shouting For Joy.

To See A World In A Grain Of Sand And A Heaven In A Wildflower.