The world isn’t ending (at least not today)

i wake to the meadows all frosted where white-crowned sparrows sing and horses graze out at pastures golden-lit in front of snow-tipped mountains and the air smells like grass and cattle shit and the small ditch of water still runs through the cattail and the red tailed hawk circles like a red flame and it must be that the world is not in fact ending (at least not today)