On a Clear Day

On a day such as today or any other numbered and limbered day you may say to yourself that the birds are singing and the sky is blue. It is you, however, who sing internal and ring eternal. The bells of forgiveness brazen the snows of chance, as you peruse the catalogs of unused news. You somehow choose amongst the myriad of sad and cloistered clinging thoughts thoughts that lie. sometimes bruised and sometimes tied, or fit to be, to the bedpost overnight. Awake to find your sight restored. and all your poorness all the less unproven and removed. Guide your fingertips across the surface of the air. Touch like liquid, hot or cold, brazen in it’s crispness cutting, or standing off in some dark tremor extending feelings tentative and new Yes! It reaches achingly for you and you are touched. Return with both hands grasping life with boldness of blazing lightning struck. Everyday Everyday Every single new and glorious day. Find a new and different way to touch this life. Bring forth book, candle, and unstained curtain and parted be the page and such be certain; that any tiny portal gazed upon will give sweet measure to the flight of ending voyage journeyed, NOW. Pray be how this journey won. This moving prayer from the lips of God: Your Life! Oh if one could only live this way to give such sacred gifts away, tears would be of liquid gold, all the stories ever written all the stories ever told Be True!