That I Am Thankful

That I Am Thankful

Through the warmest threshold of heaven
Bubbling upward, the opium dusk
Fledging the darkness with dooms, so Dublinesque
A rather rippled heat soars hidden in the humid air
Furthering itself along, twisted about the masked
Ice shelves that the morning makes so fluffed
The most vivid eyeful of orange pink
Scattered in seas and seas of naked blessings
Sharing the glow down, down to the palms and
Fingers of spruce trees, slicing up the lands
Into shadows and null, bestowing us with its
great neon gold shine, removing any doubt caused
by the million billion trillion stars.

And all I can do, standing up-right
blinklessly sleepy-eyed, is be thankful.
Thank you to the morning for shredding
Dark lit skies, for the dew drops thrown down
In hastily retreat by the moon, for the
Onset of day and afternoon, and the possibility
Of a warm evening rainstorm. The six o'clock
Of nature is sheepishly yielding to the sun's ray,
Each shadow growing thinner, evaporating away.
And the earth lets a large sigh of chrysanthemum
And pear, all glinted cherry spikes of ultra violet
Light once around the block and back again.

I let an equally large sigh.
For the earth knows and the sun knows,
As do all that is and all that was,
That I am thankful.