How Good Can It Get

This poem is one I have written based on my idea of how good it can get. I want the world to have a good life, to live as well as they can. If you can dream it, you can build it.

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How good can it get? I ask the sky,

as morning spills in gold on high.

The breeze responds with scented grace,

 a kiss of sun across my face.

How good can it get? I ask the day,

as laughter lifts the dust away.

Each moment glows, a beating drum,

a whispered thrill of what’s to come.

A hand in mine, a look, a smile,

a quiet walk, a stretched-out mile.

The world is stitched in hidden threads,

of dreams once lost, now bloomed instead.

It’s not in riches, grand or loud,

but coffee steam, a softened cloud.

The way a song can make me cry,

the way your eyes say ‘so do I.’

How good can it get? I see it clear:

It’s this, this breath, this love, right here.

And just when I think I’ve touched the height,

life gifts me more, more warmth, more light.