I came up to the top of a green hill,
Not expecting at all the wonder to be beheld.
A grey haze, lifiting it’s pale head over the line of the horizon.
It is a cold light, but it increases in life.
As the pheonix rises from the ashes, so is the light of the coming dawn.
Next there are lines of crimson, as bright as spring strawberries.
They are hopeful, like the first touch of heat when a fire is put alight.
Then comes gold, and violet, a calming light, mixed within the crimson glow,
stengthening and redeeming.
The nun is coming now, her head crests the top of the horizon. She is waking up, saying goodbye to the pale-faced moon who is sinking quietly into the sea.
The stars too wave to her, as they fade into thier own quiet slumber, waiting for the moon to jump up and wake them agian.
The first rays of heat are now on my face, and I breathe the free, morning air.
It is akin to a drink of refreshing, cold water. Strengthening and invigorating. I strech my arms up, like the trees below, and drink in her cleansing glow, eyes closed in wonderous bliss.
Oh, how the world would be a merrier place, if the worker would but lift his head up from the earth, and the woman would but draw back the shade. Let them gaze upon the morning light, in all her cleansing beauty. Let them see, oh, let them see.
The hope has been chased away by fleeting dreams of graduer and fame. We worship that which we do not know, and have forgotten what it is that we see. How we have taken it for granted.
Consider, world, our forgotten companions. The sun, the moon, the stars, and the earth. Ever have they been our refuge, our stability. We break thier souls upon ourselves, and forget that they could so easily throw us from thier sight.
It is a fleeting hope to belive that it is indeed us that hold sway over this world, we are merely it’s caregivers, let us give in return, what is given to us.
Let us gaze, as i do, upon the sun rising over the hills. Consider her face, and her ways, lest you be lost and hopeless.
I come down off of the hill, as the sun rises into the sky, giving us yet, another day. I smile, and know that I have been given such a gift, as the light of dawn.
Poetry