Lucky is the rain,
For its concealment is sublime,
When absorbed by openness
And rid of counterparts;
Suckling the night’s shade
In dry, warm fields.
Happy is the sun,
As crystal shivers blossom
In breath-held, bright mornings;
Pondering the shade,
As the sibling frosts
Nip each other’s toes.
Stug Jordan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/prelude-15/
