Golden

Oh, for the way You can make a day golden – soft Spring weather neither sultry nor chilled, but gentle, sweet, and nuanced… Unfurling buds not quite open-throated but subtle in their hope; lawn freshly mown and rainwater-green; trees fed by lightning and polished by hardly hail. Wiggle-tail lambs and milk-pure cats and a breeze like the breath of a child. Sonnets and soliloquy for morning tea. Noon is a room soaked with sunshine and silence and the stillness of books. And at twilight a supper al fresco in the sown-farm air, with candlelight under constellations of jasmine stars. Finally, flat backed on the black trampoline, all of us, chins inkward and mouths open to swallow the wonderment, and eyes reflecting the spill of that Milky stain…we worship You.

Oh, for the way You can make a night diamond!