I Have Grace

By: Wrigley

On the eve of an easy lush morning,
in view of an evanescent dew;
bluecorn diamonds mesh with scarlet
rubies in the sky.
Ivys cling to majestic mountains,
on the mints of green and silent purple.
A river inspires tranquility's sweet breath.
Billowy waves dance on water
to celebrate their existence.
A cadence of rhythm flows,
glorifying the winds pitch.
Prisms of brilliant, unimaginable colors
are reverently poised.
The horizon: a poem fruitfully sweet,
like the pulp of ripe mangoes, surprises my tongue.

Embracing the day; I give a ritual of thanks
to the master who honors the world with treasures.

I understand that you are beautiful
because that is your role. You were crafted
by hands that measured my need, allowing me
tolerance.
I have grace.
I have you.