In the Eyes of the Beholder

I stand
on the edge,
with the wind
on my face -
blue waters, 
painted storks,
green patches,
and pelicans' squawks;
a pretty picture
comes alive
in the eyes
of the beholder,
while they carry on,
and sing their song,
unfazed, untouched,
basking in the glory
of the glowing sun.