I can feel it, with thanksgiving: A poem 

I can feel it, this unearthly inebriating view 

like spring leaves drenched in dawn’s dew 

And in this magical torrential profound shower, 

the window of gaze opens to paradise’s flower 

These benevolent circles among vision’s trees 

like a cheering resurrection floating in the breeze 

And I know, that it goes beyond the highest skies 

The illumination dissipates but never dies 

It’s in the visits by cherished departed pets 

In the aura of bygone souls who are with me yet 

And I am convinced that I can place all my bets 

on the fact that the everlasting flow never sets 

My beliefs dive deep through the earth like roots 

And my life rejuvenates on the banks of truths 

And then I, at gravestones, longingly stare 

with thanks to those loved ones that didn’t end just there