Hugs

The sun rises and my mind moves the flesh
Toward the arriving daylight,
And so much of my behavior is habit,
A set of unwritten rules burned in my cortex
Which sets the clock ticking ponderously.
Until something new arrives on the wind:
A brief whiff of a flower's scent under my nose
The tremulous song of a garden bird
Singing his greeting to the new day
Or the golden glow of the morning sunshine
And suddenly the presence of the almighty
Falls before my mind's eye
And I am aware that I am not walking through this garden alone
And that even some piece of insignificant dust
Such as myself, is precious in his eyes,
So that the ultimate father
Might drop his briefcase
At the end of day
With the dying light of afternoon
Filtering through the blinds,
And offer his strong arms
To my infirm limbs
And allow significance to fall down upon me in a parental hug.