On a Sunny Day
On a Sunny Day
Why is it that beauty
is so hard to attain
We try to reach for it,
grab it with our polished nails
Until they break off
Because we were to stubborn to admit
To admit is to realize
To realize is to be awake
To be awake is ought to be
Ought to be not deceived
Gautama on his side
entering the eternal light
Yet,
I am asleep
Because I can reach for beauty
But it vanishes in Fall
Resurrects in Spring
Flourishes in Summer
And is gone by winter
As a little bird on the window sill
I tend to stand still
Looking inside the room
Eating my sweet potato pie in the afternoon
Supper is there, brown is her hair
Eat
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