Gazing upon heaven

I sit and watch the sun dip below the distant hills,
My beautiful horizon laid in my view,
Water pools upon the flood plain in the valley,
Formed by precipitation and rivers run off,
From fields of green to puddle to lake while I slumber,
Filled with geese and ducks come spring,
Barking their morning song,
A tune for me to start my day,
A breath of air free from sawn dust mid morning,
The local Robin sits beside me in silent agreement,
The geese bark their merry message for all to hear,
Rippling water gently as they glide along,
A masterpiece in stark white,
For my eyes alone to see,
A slurp of sweet tea,
A chug or two on class B,
And to the grindstone I return,
Refreshed, revived and retasked
To finish as late winters sun begins its slow descent,
Casting deep reds, rich purple and burnt orange finger across the darkening clouds, Casting its broken reflections across this temporary lake,
And once more I am lost,
In my glorious view.

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