who would not miss

there are times like this, moments, when one awakes with a very beautiful feeling.  like this morning. i awoke and i feel so light, so happy, so joyful.  the negativities of the previous day gone, or, momentarily unremembered. as i walked towards the bakery i am so aware of my surroundings --

i hear the bird's concerto, i know they're just there among the branches and leaves of the trees that i passed.  i playfully mimicked their twittering by whistling and i thought they answered back. and this old dog, looking so ancient with its emaciated body but still standing so bravely. he looked at me and i saw he's blind in both eyes, or probably just cataracts, for the eyes has whitened irises. yet i know, he enjoys this morning too.  the wind whispers; the green and brown leaves of the trees rustle,  one or two of the browned leaves fall in slow-motion, as if they are resisting leaving mother tree, but, it is now their time to kiss the ground;  the grass leaves that sprouted right in the cracks of the paved road sway gently; and, although it is already morning, up there in the blue sky, the moon is a three-fourth white orb, white as the irises of old dog.  at the bakery store, the owner handed me freshly baked bread, still hot from the oven, the aroma immediately arousing my stomach's juices.

at home, the table is set for breakfast, with wife and daughter, three white ceramic cups full of sweet-smelling hot coffee already prepared.  this will be a simple, hearty breakfast.  yes, i know, i know, this joy will soon pass.  life's concerns will again intrude upon me as it has done on the previous days. but still, i shall enjoy this moment.  i shall accept.  i will surrender.  henry david thoreau had said it, " to effect the quality of day is the highest of all arts .. ".

difficult, maybe, but i will always try to have a great day as much as the Infinite will allow ..

 a fine morning

who would not miss
such a fine morning as this
when many feathered friends 
sit on the bough sweetly singing,
and the goat's sons and daughters
are busily grazing;
while on my lawn, the dried grasses lie
awaiting the trumpet's call 
for Earth to them reclaim,
and on another corner
the ground gives way
to a sprouting seed
well-timed, welcoming
this merry, merry day!