Santonym

Things are not always as they seem.

Friendship is the sincerest in silence;
The greenest grass is under your feet.
Winter marks your warmest months;
West is up and also down;
There is no northern wind.

The best book written is still unread,
The most honest harmony unheard.
Delight is sought in the brink of sorrows;
Tears are sweet, smiles are heard;
There is no northern wind.

The Sky is a lover of Moon and of Son;
A Child is the most cherished priest.
The canyons are valleys that cannot be stored;
Darkness is darkness, Light is light;
And still no northern wind.