One of the strange
things about
living in the world
is that it is only
now and then
one is quite sure
one is going to live
forever and
ever and ever.
One knows it
sometimes
when one gets up
at the tender
solemn dawn-time
and goes out
and stands alone
and throws one's head
far back
and looks up and up
and watches
the pale sky
Slowly changing and flushing
and marvelous unknown things happening
until the east almost
makes one cry out
and one's heart
stands still
at the strange
unchanging majesty
of the rising
of the sun
~ which has been happening
every morning
for thousands
and thousands and thousands of years.
One knows it then
for a moment
or so …
“The Secret Garden,”
by
Frances Hodgson Burnett
What a great picture. Captures the atmosphere just right.
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