Canticle For The Cosmos
Every atom and molecule
of me was made by you
in the cauldron of your womb
and these five senses of mine
are as much yours to mirror
back your majesty.
For you I assemble the morning
with its chilly wind coming across
the bay, the bloom weighted branches
of magnolia bending over my way
and scenting this last month of winter
with a promise of spring.
And here, just over the water,
great scoops of cloud
sitting like sun licked ice cream atop
of the city skyline, soft serve
for this sensory breakfast
that I offer you
lifted on the laughter of children
on their way to school,
all this a blossoming
of abundant life held in a morning
gifted me, beauty born
of such unimaginable savagery.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2024
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