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.’