That State of Trust

the smoke of blue mountains in Pennsylvania rises to illumination. dawn has spoken. it was three years ago and several tired trusting days when, cool, the sun was sunday and everything we could think. then the rose of being only for tomorrow, it became telling. tomorrow comes on the edge of sunlight. we rise in its effect, remembering previous days of green hills growing stronger in the sun. the sun is crowned with famous signals, we could dream. if dream is easy, like rays off the porch in the first trust of love, then we are saved. it may be true. we wave and grandeur, like crows or blue jays: just enough trouble. and the weird wavering principle of settlement causes us to blush. we've been dependent, we've sought aid. yet wow is the fraction of our best guess. we live to include. do you streak violet in the morning sky like I do? of course you do. and we're all waiting. this is the healthy season and the cross examination of fence. language rides us. we need formidable balance. a crushing weight gets pushed aside. then when we realize that winter is ahead, we cast our stones towards pleasure. pleasure rings in vowel sounds, the pure increment of saying so. what more would anyone want?