The garden at dawn, early morning
Sunlight shines through petals.
Mere purple turns to violet,
white shines brighter; the light
illuminates the tight spun-sugar wires of webs
linking leaf to stem, bud to branch.
It is too early for the human stain.
Ants crawl by my feet, just as busy and aimless.
Birds sing to me, trilling cadences
thrilling the ear with their unfathomable
messages of life and hope.
There is a faint perfume, the residue of some
night scented bloom
that needs the intimacy of night
to hide it’s beauty.
From three million miles away
the sun paints my face with warmth.
The empty, cloudless sky
has never been more blue.
This world is a wonder.
If I have to leave it,
let it be on a day like this,
not wrapped in the shrouded gloom
of bedclothes and room.
Let me go out