The sky moves from black to violet to red to pink
As the slightly cool breeze hits the cheek
A rooster cries and birds chitter
My old cat demands to be fed
A newspaper thunks on the stoop
I think that dew on the grass has a scent
The evidence is clear that I am still alive.
I know this will be a good day
Because it is yet another day I have been given.
I know that whatever happens
Morning will arrive tomorrow
Looking and feeling very much like today
And entirely indifferent to our petty measures
Of What constitutes a good or a bad day.
The sun’s message is that they are all good days