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Poem

Early Morning

I wish to capture in some way,
With words, the ineffable
Images, and sounds of quiet,
In a time without man sounds.

Early morning awakened by
The first glimmer of orange red
As it begins to rise phoenix like
Across the lake.

Incongruous images blended together,
deck railing covered with
 beach towels, swim suits, life jackets.
 Sandals with the obligate passengers of sand.

Cool, windless, no sound
of noise, except the
Bountiful nature noise
That exists in my silence.

Conversations of squirrels 
As they sit sending their messages 
From the high floating needle fingers of white pines.

The subtle whir, phantom like,
 of ruby breasted humming birds
At the feeder, jockeying for position. 

Persistent bird songs,
Celebrating, welcoming, 
And then the exploring pileated wood pecker
On pine overgrown, over ripe.

Nothing moves except the cacophony of sounds. 
No requirement to categorize each sound,
Only to listen to the sibilant blend,
 and record in your mind the palette of colors
That surround you, the palette of sounds.

House quiet within-as is the 
Glassy lake with mist rising,
Ephemeral gauzy, translucent.

The orchestral sounds of silence 
Play out against the rising orb.  
In its rising, the silhouette fills out,
Mists rising within its climb.

Now a brilliant blaze 
of focused energy with a yellow shell,
Then a ball of incandescent light, searing to behold,
Incandescent memories.

May 2, 2021

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