Dies Dominica! the sunshine burns <br />strong incense on the breathing fields of morn: <br />lucid, intense, all colour towards it yearns <br />that souls of flowers on the air are born. <br /> <br />What claustral joy to-day is on the air <br />—expanding now and one with the celebrant sun—- <br />and fills with pointed flame all things aware, <br />all flowers and souls that sing—and I am one! <br /> <br />Dies Dominica! the passion yearns, <br />and the world and the singer is but one flower <br />from out whose luminous chalice odour burns <br />intenser toward the blue thro’ this keen hour: <br /> <br />—this hour is my eternity! the soul <br />rises, expanding ever, with the sight, <br />thro’ flowers and colours, and the visible whole <br />of beauty mingled in one dream of light.<br /><br />Christopher John Brennan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dies-dominica-the-sunshine-burns/
