Beautiful World

Tree hulls filter the smoke of a new day.
Knock on wood and dance with the leaves.
 
The autumn leaves reach higher in the light of a sun that's breaking through.
Follow along the chips of sunlight.
 
The canopy of the trees is cast so deep.  
Where's the world we were promised?
 
She had to be a bird to glide through the branches,
'round and 'round these timber beams that extend forever,
and through the cover of the top of this Earth.
 
Into an open world,
she exhales breaths of cloud.
 
From above, the canopy looks like a sloth.
But it moves with the wind, no matter how slowly.
 
Glossing over it are shades of yellow.
We've felt parts of this yellow under the canopy.  
In the open blue, the hotlight's over the entire floor.  
 
Here's the whole damn sun.
We've all just bet on chips of light,
 
but here's your beautiful world.