THE SUN IN A CRUMB

What comes in every morning,
the golden sun,
or the silver rain,
it stays inside the air and inside my soul.
What I see is beauty, in the mountains, in the hills, the beauty of these rays of sunshine.
And am I such a small thing, am I like a sparrow, with a crumb in my knuckle, who would like the whole banquet?
Am I inside this gold of wonderful light and this beautiful warm air, and I see beautiful things and everything looks good, and it really is in reality?
My heart opens with the sun, my body absorbs this heat and life flows through my veins.
Who gives me this life?
I am a small crumb that falls on the sill and yet I am still here and the sun illuminates me and keeps me company.
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