The Day after the Squall

This day is serenely sunny.
It is more than illusion;
sky and earth are blooming.
The light
fills all my empty spaces.

On a day like this
everything has wings. We soar
with feet on the ground.
Logic and whimsy
hover  hand in hand.

Everything exists on the edge of
a breath.  Both delicate and durable,
all time is a tapestry;
April  is woven
with sunshine and bloom.

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