morning poem, march 18, 2015

 

.

The earliest light creeps low across the land

A thousand birds, a hundred kinds

Sing to the new morning.

The sound rises and the countering melodies

In one moment and another

Coincide in astonishing harmony.

.

Behold, the coming of the day

And the accordant ceremony of the teeming creation.

 

Copyright 2015

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