The trees may talk. The pictures, too.
Touch them with your cursor, do.
Make them tell their thoughtful tales
on what a worldwide plan details.
Fly or stroll to see a site
for samples -- what we may contrive,
and hear the water of the falls;
as birds fly by they sing and call.
Climb the hill all ringed with stones
and feel music in your bones.
Horns will whistle; strings are touched.
Water makes the walls, as such.
In the tower's a device
to whisk you far away; it's nice.
It's the entrance to a gallery,
take a lunch, but see it free.

Different paths lead different places.
Warps and teleports, vast spaces.
There is just too much to see,
but hang out there and hang for free.
Walking in our restful gardens,
think the thoughts you'd think regardless.
Listen to the fountain's laughter,
hear it soothe the soul you're after.
Up the ramp and to the right
is snow and ice to chill and spice.
Another tower there's a stage
to make a speech if you feel brave.

Meditation can be had
if that should make you feel glad.
Walk and hear a sound infusion.
Think your thoughts without intrusion.
Wander idly sans direction
...see what's there is our suggestion.
Step into a different world
and see the art that's there unfurled.
Expose the inexplicable,
or read Ching Chow -- he's indispensable.

Water is the thoughtful theme;
it frames your thoughts and keeps them clean.
It papers rooms, and gently sings
a music that relaxes things.
Balconies survey a view
that grows green things of different hues.
Reds are added to the mix
to keep the colors far from fixed.

Water portals give you ways
to spend some moments in your day
being thoughtful and aware
of things that are not thought of there
one is harried and distressed;
You're not the only one perplexed.
Others of some similar mind,
share with you what they'd confide,
and you're refreshed -- invigorated,
a brand new strength regenerated.

Walk the halls and touch the work,
as some produce the verse you've heard.
A female staff in royal blue
will give you hints on what to do.
The pictures are eclectic -- frank.
The verse is something more than blank.
All in all they tell a truth
that we contend is not abstruse.
. . . Something plainer than the fare
you see on CNN, mon frere?

In this pool the fishes speak.
You must get in -- they talk a streak.
Behind you is a fall through space,
you won't be hurt so fall with grace.
Everywhere you look there's paint
we've splashed around in ways, I think,
would please the eye and move the soul,
and lift you from your rut or hole.