grayness and purpling
wholeness in the heavy
churning of the clouds
as they darken just
along the horizon;
amber and orange-pink
light escaping in slivers
at the edges - as it could,
and the soul felt
its worth.
You don't always
have to search for the
beauty of the light;
it finds you largely
from your places
in the dark - a thrill
of hope.
A smile draws itself
along the line of your
lips; the ice around the
bud reflects the warmth,
your heart alights
a twinkle in your eye
and a weary world rejoices.
I find myself
so often
at the beginning and
the end of the daily
showing of the sun.
Yonder breaks
my joy.
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