Blessed by the first light of the day*

Blessed by the first light of the day*

At that hut at the green green valley
Whence the first light of the day
Comes quite, drenching the lands of grass and meadows,
There how oft I find me, in my deepest silence,
So mixed with colored scape of Thy profundity,
There how far away from the noise of the city, I find me, truest,
As if I get the smell of foliage,
And bushes and hedges drenched by dew,
How before my eyes enliven,
As birds come waking , stirring their feathers,
As they start chirping sweet,
Morning as they in unison greet,
Drenched alike by the light,
The first of the day,
Falling slanting, slipping by
Those hills which stand ascetic.

(*Note: loosely based upon a painting as attached, done by Kirt Hermon, courtesy : Musica Pittura e Dintorni, Alex Artista)

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