Every day comes with its own gifts, of course.
But some, I’ve found, come wrapped in disguise,
making you hunt for the prize. Sometimes
you can go for months, even years,
before you discover what the gift was.
But some days unfold with unblemished perfection
that sings through the hours from dawn into night,
every one of them spilling over with beauty.
And when they close, they float into your heart,
just to remind you that perfection is possible,
and that you lived in its midst one day in spring.