Lit room is glowing a majestic wash of yellow,
heaven’s sunrise awakening,
heating the morning dawn,
what splendor.
I breathe in the freshness of the air,
filling my lungs,
feeling the briskness of the atmosphere,
hearing songbirds named accentors.
The verdant rolling hills just
beyond shine like emeralds against
the empty blue skies,
warming the heart,
glorious and tender.
The blossoming of
nature’s seeds awakening at play,
spreading far and near,
transforming the
once empty lands over eons ago,
mother nature, the Spirit working,
the divine inventor.
Is this not like us, mere mortals,
a divine seed planted in
the soil of the soul that grows,
transforming us in
his likeness over the years,
unrecognizable from the beginning but
now with different hues of
human nature and not unlike nature,
great in splendor?