Prompt: A poem based in the natural world
The Gift
Emerging from within
The clouds that enveloped us
Came the rising sun
Peeking out
From behind the mountains
Like a newborn
Discovering the game of peek-a-boo
Revealing its glorious face,
Then hiding,
And reappearing yet again.
Never a more perfect morning
Have I experienced since,
Nor shall.
Unlike Ms Oliver,
Who rose out of her pristine bed
Into her garden
Waiting,
A pen and paper in hand,
I stepped out of my orange tent,
Paperless.
I stood there,
Awe-stricken,
Taking in the gravity of Nature
Her effortlessness of offering
Herself as a Gift.
A Gift so pure
And untouched
That in the poetry of the moment
I forgot to thank Her.
Instead,
I walked upon the frosty grass -
Soaking in the glory
Of being alive.
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