some mornings
i do not stop for the beauty of life
i do not see the detail of her divinity
(it is not in the big picture that beauty lies
but in the smallest, frailest fragments of the whole)
but grace of graces
life stops for me
and waits patiently
that i might collect my senses
and allow her enchantment to creep in
and linger a moment
an hour
a day

as long as i wish her to stay