Morning Inspection

Golden daisies present themselves to me;
lupine, forget-me-not, blue as dreams,
standing straight and tall in their green uniforms.
Wrens and warblers serenade,
asking if my ears are pleased (they are
wallowing in delight).
A contortionist pine asks for my attention
to its complicated search for sunlight.

Though my sergeant-major mind has many plans this hour,
my soul counts it sacrilege to ignore
the world’s pleas for my applause.
Soul rises up, itself singing, takes wing
for heaven, whose attention, in turn, it has caught.