Crystal Morning Song
Smokey dark clouds ooze steady slow across the evening sky,
Green patchwork hills slide stiffly to the bland suburbs.
No birds glide the sky of quite calmness at this moment,
Perhaps already resting. In perches of lofty sways and rhythms.
Lolling asleep in small feathered dreams of exhaustion.
Of lands new yet old, of flights long and necessarily made,
To rest and feed and start anew, a spring of blessed rebirth.
Still by mornings new and rested sleep I shall hear them sing,
Awakening me with crystal morning song from my sleepy sway.
2012 © S.de B.