Morning Has Broken - Sonnet For My Mom
Early this morning, the song of blackbirds
quell the swell of silence enfolded by night.
Dim light on a distant ridge: the sun returns,
freed from Atlantis, drenched in the cloak of life.
Soft dew-drop showers dapple the dusty
garden with pops of pastels like lavender,
lilac, tea rose and pink, from clouds that carry
cleansing tears of a newborn’s young mother,
the potter protective her infant clay.
She picks up her child, a fragile bowl, chipped,
frail from thirty years spent running away,
now run aground as a twice sunken ship.
Her hands keep a promise, one quietly spoken,
made long ago when morning had broken.
- For my mother who sang me Cat Stevens'
Morning has Broken the day
I was born.
Copyright © Phillip Garcia | Year Posted 2017
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