Here comes the light

Holding hands with the dark.

The dawn is confused and asks the night for clarity

But nothing is clear, all is grey.

 

Here comes the bee

Holding hands with the rose.

The hive buzzes with hate, for lack of nectar

But nothing is sweet, all is wrong.

 

Here comes the waves

Holding hands with the sand.

The fish demand a reason, an answer

But nothing is simple, all is strange.

 

Here comes the boy

Holding hands with the girl

They are left alone on the beach

And all becomes clear and simple and sweet.