Where the sun hides
Come with me to the place ~
where the sun hides its face;
to pour its golden light,
on trees and vines in sight.
Even silence speaks there ~
on the peaks, in thin air;
where skies turn brightest gold
and trees, both young and old.
No animals appear;
perhaps they feel the fear.
Birds too are out of sight;
perhaps lost in their flight.
Yet beauty holds its charm,
within this gentle calm.
A scene pleasing the eye;
where trees reach for the sky.
Is this where angels dwell?
In places hard to tell.
The plants still brightly glow,
even with waters low.
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