Mist fall upon the roses in the field and the greenish grass grows greener and rouse in a blissful uproar
Knowing something amazing is poured out
They stand erect and abreast for the freshness nature poured out upon them
It seems the invisble nature controllers never forget even the little lillies in the field and garden
The coming of joy upon the soul which desires it comes with no demand but only with inclination of personal self
Its walks in a noble aisle of innocense and readiness for an embrace
Whoever could stand abreast surely will embrace it
Its atmosphere is refined, rejuvenating and heart warming disbursting mist and rain of goodness
Joy is a delight beyond material comprehension and logical description but the soul that has it interprets its entire feeling of freshness
Beyond recognition, its feeling of freshness consumes the mind and soul.