Morning

January 25, 2011
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I lean my head out the open window,
Bathing in untouched beauty.
Cold crisp air attacks me at once
But then a warm breeze washes over me,
Caressing my face and putting my uneasy nerves to rest.

My attention is called upon once again,
This time by a glowing light from below.
And I see! I see the incandescent light of the morning sun.
Glowing light emanates from the ground,
From between blades of grass to the tip and beyond.
Up around and through the grass the glowing light winds its way;
Each blade turning into its own illuminant.

Mist floats across the scene.
Thick but non-existent, unsubstantial but protecting everything.
Covering everything as a transparent cloak,
It somehow magnifies the beauty of all.
Taking your breath away it leaves you hungry for more.

I look out again, this time drawn to glimmers of light.
Morning dew glistens as if covered in ice,
Creating an enchanted feeling.
Water droplets cause the ground to sparkle,
Breaking through the cloak that mist has made,
But not overpowering anything.
Each new aspect seems to enhance the last,
Like an orchestra crescendos from piano into fortissimo,
Until reaching a point where you can bear no more.

Tiny hairs on my body stand on end at this beautiful sight.
I wonder why it is so beautiful when only the rare person will see it.
There will be no one to brag of its beauty.
Then I realize that its beauty isn’t to be bragged about,
But to be appreciated by those who truly care.





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