Light dances on the rippled pond,
glimmering diamond flashing beads of morning,
gold and new in day’s dawning,
shards so mellow, woken from sleep.
Crisp the air, that rising mist,
as if to unveil a new world’s will,
and life yawns its dreams to still,
to inhale the afferent breath of day.
And gliders breach the surface,
as if stuck in a honey glaze,
like a darting stop and starting maze,
in criss-cross pattern reflections.
While feathered friends swoop low to find,
a sumptuous breakfast swimming kind,
and touch the water with hopeful beaks,
to collect that silvery prize they seek.
And as the light pervades the mist,
in shimmering reflections of morning’s gift,
the rustle of leaves and grasses mark,
foraging those their gifted art.
As life sighs, a pleasured hope-filled gaze,
upon its garden profuse,
and all in heart have quietly deduced,
that goodness sun has stolen night
for day’s joyous path, begun.
Tony DeLorger © 2016