The land awoke today,
bright and windless,
to gaze upon a porcelain sun.
In love with light,
it shows once more,
wavering subtle shades,
of brilliant liquid color,
within its well-shaped orb.
It is a clear and selfless light,
that never waits to see,
its own flawed colors,
shattered as broken glass,
reflected in windows of poverty.
Alone this painted orb,
knows only of self-comforting,
and in its seclusion,
it may never know,
through either love or wisdom,
just how beautiful it can be.