Photo by Safa
Float back in time,
fifty years or so, to a morning
when you were just opening
your eyes at first light.
A suitable number of summers
to have learned
all you’ll ever need
to be the person
you were meant to be—
the only one of your kind.
From the window, savor
this place where you reside—
sun’s rays ascending
over an oak covered hill
in the singular morning light.
Set your worries aside.
Look how high the grass
has grown. It’s not yet spring,
though buds are forming
on the trees and there are oranges
nearly ready to be picked.
Listen as the crows exclaim,
awe! awe! awe!