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Though this is my good morning, it is night,
And your face, radiant, becomes my sun,
So blindingly, it all comes to my sight,
That it is all in me, and I am one,
With rooted bole, empyrean, with you,
With each and every thing I sublimate;
Held to the light, each truth becomes a clue
Suggesting that my life is satiate.
Good morning, I awaken to this face—
To happiness, which I may find or leave.
I am happy now, here, and in this space,
Felicity is all I shall conceive.
My face, my sun, I will hold on to you,
Knowing, as one, this light is what is true.
September 10 2005, 08:49:14 UTC 6 years ago
September 10 2005, 14:39:34 UTC 6 years ago