Each day the sky tells a different story
each moment a new horizon arises
today, here, the sky dresses herself
in glorious gold and regal, dusky blue-grey
and brilliant, bright light-blue
using clouds to accent the best parts

every morning the sun paints a fresh masterpiece
to inspire my view
on a morning like this
though, there are no mornings alike
each one is the same and
each one is unique
on such a morning one will be born
and one will die
one will fall ill and
one will be attacked
one will force himself on another and
one will offer her best in sacrifice for love
one will starve and
one will die of a heart attack from too rich eating
one will fee love and another loathing

the world is a grand paradoxical scene
how can we continue this way?
and why would we want to?
I deny so much of myself
just to get along in this world
I see just my own light now
weeding out what isn't nourishing
sifting out what won't rise