Sunrise
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Apparent air in tug-of-war
With passing butterfly wings.
It is the music of the story
Each heart daily sings.
You awoke in love today
So deep that you may drown.
Welcome trident’s touch as much
As this new whispered sound.
For no time now exists of which you fear.
Burden’s past belong to burden’s past.
Fleeing soon, such visions disappear
As freedom greets your every turn at last.
You speak not yesterday nor entertain the morrow
Nor speak of anything within the range of sorrow.
You know them not, in countenance nor form.
No longer do they manifest as storm.
Your gift is now the petaled flower’s power to persuade
Your lover’s lips to cast to yours an everlasting shade.
Your love be as engagement of the water to the sand,
Earth to space, time to place,
Fingers to God’s Hand.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2021
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