morning Rapture

morning is full
of early sun
shine, all bright light
cold, tingly crisp and
spotless
sky, endlessly smooth
blueness,
Grass, emeraldy sparkly
diamond-dewed.
Long shadows, outlines
sharp as creases
mirror winter trees
bare
but for sticky buds.
the air itself fresh
as the first day,
carrrying caws of crows
and the drone of
engines above.
This is as close to god
as i get
nonbeliever,
lost in rapture and
letting the tree
take my weight,
leaning against its
solidity.