The perfect day is not the day
where you accomplish the most,
or when everything goes your way
nor is it measured by the number of
successes you can boast, no.
The perfect day is in the secret songs birds sing
in the subtle advent of spring.
in the subtle advent of spring.
It is in the quiet subservience of grass blades
as a cat stalks silently through your garden.
It is in the way leaves listen so attentively
as the wind whispers in its ears.
It is in the lazy lull of listless clouds
as they marvel at the blue sky.
The perfect day is in the loving texture
of a sandwich made by your mom.
It is in the lingering of coffee
as it relishes the bittersweet aftertaste of you.
It is in the shivering joy of running your fingers
down the smooth spine of a riveting read.
It is in the beauty of the sun
reflected off of your glowing iridescent skin.
Yes, the perfect day is the day
where you accomplish the least,
when nothing seems to be going your way
yet you feel completely at ease.
That book better not come back with any stains on it >=(
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