In The Hour Of Awakening
A deeper silence diffuses rapidly around Nature waiting
for its awakening, a shine less, discontent and wandering
star gleams with a scarcely light so murky and feeble;
then dissipates itself in the faded, whitish blue; the blinding
sun illuminates the dull, tired, moody moon in slow orbit...
while the big, round sun irradiates it making it less visible:
No curious vagabond questions the wonderous unfolding!
Suddenly the hidden larks begin warbling
their enharmonic notes startle whom is listening;
they are the very first creatures to announce
the hour of awakening that the faithless denounce!
The aromatic breeze, so inebriant, is strong enough
for one to savor the sweetness of their fruits,
and they are free for the eager asker's mouth;
be them weary travelers or steady wanderers!
And as daises and roses are randomly awoken by intense light,
their droopy petals drip with warm dew: were they weeping?
All flowers are greeted with a brilliance so rare and blinding,
then, the drowsy ravens start croaking and engage in flight!
A bright morning isn't too festive without the nearby bells' echo,
it fades out when the speedy train chums to break the harmony;
I recite my morning prayer more ardent in tone, almost a bravado
and it intimidated the wretched fellow cursing God for his infirmity!
Melancholy spreads far and wide conquering the below valley,
the scattered towns appeared even smaller from mount so steep;
the noisy cascade, descending from the rocky boulder, flows quietly:
it forms a wild river bubbling among rocks as it heads for the deep!
In the hour of awakening, sadness pervades over all landscapes;
it's time for rest, for meditation, for prayer, for dreams to awaken;
does anybody like shadows and stare at owls huddled on trees...
hearing their creepy sound that frighten the senses easily shaken?
Copyright ©
Andrew Crisci
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