Here I stand at my back door window.
The robins have not yet awakened to
sing,
But sleep has eluded my senses this
morning,
Chased by the gentle tap-tapping
you bring.
I stare at the streams of fresh
liquid crystals
Which dance in the floodlight in
chorus line fashion;
A river, an ocean which falls from
the Heavens
And cleanses the Earth with a
demonic passion.
I beckon the taps, for I must have
my coffee,
And you, most obediently, quickly
obey
In an act which is commonly taken
for granted
A hundred, a thousand times every
day.
My mind starts to wander and
worship your treasure,
You giver of life we both fear and
revere;
Your presence a barrier or a
conveyance;
A reason to weep, a reason to
cheer.
We span your expanses with bridges
and monuments,
Ride on your whitecaps to enchanted
isles
Where waterfalls freshen the mist
of the morning
And crystal clear streams seem to
go on for miles.
Married to sunlight... Creator of
life...
Earth would be barren if you were
not there...
Sustenance too often taken for
granted;
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