So Gracious the Day

So gracious the day (the sun rises before I): light illumines lands and lakes emerging from night's shadowed shroud; stars relinquish status, and the phased (yet never fazed) moon fades; cool night breezes collapse, temperatures trek upward, day's noise nudges night's narrative into silence.

Animals active with darkness descend to their dens, nodding vague acknowledgement to those emerging to engage again in their search for survival. Shadows born long and narrow slowly shorten and assimilate into mere mid-day selves, then reverse course to stretch again toward the eastern horizon. Birds chirp seducing songs, locusts saw away, arachnids arc webs around flapping flies (buzzing), fish drop deep into the cool reaches of the pond, leaves lean into light: each one speeds or slows, calculating its own course under the command of our single shining star working its daily way west.

All 7 billion homo sapiens (we who wallow in our wisdom!) live or die by the grace of the orb our gracious orb orbits. But we hardly know it. We assume it self-evident that we are in control, charge, and command: but our self-elevated placement is not at all apparent to our environment. Our star and our sphere surely laugh and lament the sorry swagger of our wordy ways and wars and wanderings. Who, beholding our hubris from heaven's heights, would not be amused, ashamed, afraid?

But I arise, wash my face, and bemoan the start of another day.

Stalwart sun (rising before I): you mock my pathetic self-pity!