Beads of sun break through this holy day
Glistening everything it hits, including my weathered desk
Plants scream out for more, reaching out with reckless abandon
And the flies all attempt to break free through the stained glass
Leaving their motionless debris scattered along the ledge
Meanwhile, deep in the distance
The blinding sun races it’s distance
Breaking through and burning any who dare impede it’s travel
And the morning cries
Like a loose canon that’s locked and loaded
Throwing tantrums at the glistening grass
Ready to dry with the midday sun
“Collapse” say the trees, your time will return very soon
Spreading wider to bask in the newly angled rays
Slowly spreading further into the distance
And graying with distance that hasn’t yet decided
Which angle it likes best
For night begins to roll the skies into brilliant spectrums
But throws it’s shadows like passing butterflies
Quietly and silently and at times omnipresent
And for the love of it all
The morning waits its turn in line
While noon pouts a silent whimper
Evening spreads out a blanket with some nice wine
And cooly entertains the fleeting thoughts of the moon