Wait For Morning To Burn
Morning fog descends
Dusky pinpricks on my skin
Veils of hidden hills arise
Shrouds obey sunrise
Redwood still stands tall
Poetry sits on a perch
Feel the morning fog recede
Clouds layered veils deep
Fog's book peels pages
Sunrise lifts up gray curtains
Opaque airs thicken distance
Lone jay takes off
Poem transpires slate
Inspiration dissipates
Male jay remains in the drab
Smoke apparitions
Distance is illusion
Loneliness a delusion
Like fog fooling perspective
Change heaven’s constant
Tomorrow shrouds come
Ashen mornings will return
Love will find rest in redwoods
Poems are renounced
Stay grounded as trees
Climb above clouds to what's blue
Wait for aspect to restore
Fog, bird, or lover
***
2 Samuel 23:4
'Is as the light of the morning when the sun rises, a morning without clouds, when the tender grass springs out of the earth, through sunshine after rain.’
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