The Extraordinary Consequence of Being
So often, I contemplate
The extraordinary consequence of being
Beholding majesty of dawn
In quilted colors, salmon blush and coral pink
When laced with morning blue, I think
How can I explain the world, its beauty unsurpassed
And my ability to see
What I can’t fully understand
When tasting of the fruits at hand
Of cherries red or grapes of violet vine
To still the wine that teases thirsty lips
Why and how, I can’t explain
So then again I ponder, how it is that I remain
To bear the fragrance of the night
When sunset in its splendor kisses a magenta sky
To yield forever souvenirs
Listening through my eager ears to graceful melody
Be it Whip-poor-will or Lark
As they pierce the lonely dark
I still can’t comprehend
And yet my hands extend
To sense the purity, the brush of velvet snow
To compliment all that I am seeing
To boast the consequence of being
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