BY JAY WELLER
EACH MORNING WHEN YOU GRAP ONTO, THAT FRONT DOOR
EACH BIRD WILL HAVE IT’S FINEST DAY TO SOAR
AS YOU STRUGGLE TO FIND, A REASON TO SURVIVE
EACH SOUL WILL FIND ITS SEASON THEN TO THRIVE
EACH FLOWER CREATE IT OWN FINEST BLOOM
FROM WATER’S GORGE EACH DRAW ITS FINEST FLUME
AND ALL THE THINGS YOU SEEK, TO QUESTION WHY
CAN BE FOUND, BY SIMPLY LOOKING, AT THE SKY