Monday, May 15, 2017
Good morning poured into my room
In streams that, warming, wakened me
To watch the golden, rising tide
Flow inward from the dawning day.
The maiden light is rarely such
A flood of nearly touchable
Assurance, eager to arrive
And meet you; waiting like the sound
And fragrance of festivity
On your own doorstep, greeting you
Before you open and go in.