This is the day I am given.
Filling my vision, geraniums’ orange-red.
Was ever a color so certain?
What else, what else?
My senses gulp, ahead of themselves,

before I remember
that rushing ruins the view.
This the morning I am giving
my kiss goodbye to the earth,
and kisses must be slow and savored.

My ears are full of birds!
They tell of their doings
calling out like friendly neighbors.
The pool of their sounds
bathes me, close and far.

On this the last, who knows,
morning I am given,
my perfect cup of tea
takes me to an Asian hillside
where leaves drink sun for me.

Oh gift of earthy gifts, imagination!
I am here. And everywhere.
And so the morning closes.
And so I sit unclinging;
ready, like the day, to fly.

©Susa Silvermarie 2021

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