How Beautiful the Day

How beautiful the day
when the sun rises early
in a splendor of mango
and strawberry cream,
and the sky lightens
from a deep, pensive slumber
to an ocean in suspension
over the earth
with streaks of clouds
like cotton and paint
smeared across its dyed canvas,
and the silhouettes of trees-
dark and joyous shadows
that they are-
reveal their true colors
in a brilliant display of springtime,
drops of sparkling diamond dew
still clinging to each budding pine,
each delicate vein,
and a ruffle of warmth
flows through the wild meadow,
where daffodils, lilies, and violets
have just taken root, striving
to make their way past
the moist, fertile earth,
heavy with that early-morning shower,
a daily gift which spring presents
in modesty and pleasure,
accompanied at times
with a gentle, soothing zephyr,
or, when she is passionate,
a roaring gale and sprinkling hail,
overshadowed with thunderheads
dark with anticipation and excitement,
and a flash of violet lightning too,
just to accentuate
her token of coming.
How beautiful the day
when the world spins round its axis
at its leisure, letting the seasons
come and go in perfect liberty,
and all things come to a close
with a matchless sunset
sinking in grapefruit and pomegranate,
giving way to a violet sky
painted with roses and
scattered with gems
sparkling and glimmering across
the dark expanses of the endless
mystery called space-
empty, perhaps, but certainly filled
with pictures sketched by the gods
of their favored mortals, lively still,
and trailing through the heavens
each unique history and tale,
legends of old-
this, then, is the grandest end
to the grandest beginning
of the grandest day
that ever was,
a mere score and four hours long,
but lingering still
in the memory of those who
took the time
to cherish each moment,
each grand moment,
which then can be retold
and enjoyed, in part,
by the next generation, and
posterity ever after, until
the most perfect day that ever was
comes again
in the most perfect beginning,
entering in quietly, nobly, gloriously,
continuing in such a fashion,
until the most perfect end,
the most perfect sunset, arrives
in a matching nobility and glory,
falling into a perfect,
quiet,
noble,
glorious
grave.