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