I can’t help but notice the Desert Milkweed toppled over
by the weight of her own beautiful flowering.
Or the clouds so perfect across my very own horizon
made more spectacular by the omission of
the days first direct light of the sun.
Twinkling birds so captivating
there was a pause
before noticing the sounds of a truck
and then some passing cars.
Everything feels more distant
when the Earth is made more freshly wet.
Tiniest of leaves sprouting on the lady’s slipper
and prettiest white blooms resting below the fig tree.
Early morning pause. Early morning prayers.
Wanting to move as seamlessly as the view from my porch
into a day I intend to participate in.
Though wanting to stay in a time
where everything I hear, see, smell, and feel
is so easily recognizable as God.