A tree was standing in sunshine,
but it didn't do anything,
didn't bow and bend,
didn't dance or shake in happiness,
didn't seem any better
than trees in the shadow of clouds.
A flower was also standing close by,
not behaving in a special way,
not being any more beautiful
because it was springing up
in a limitless kind of sunshine
that was sprawled across
miles and miles of land --
sunshine that was wishing the best
to rivers and hills and towns
and to us,
to all of us
who stand in its brilliance
and are as bright
as we always are,
whether in sunshine or darkness.
