First Light

July 11, 2012
By Michael.West.III PLATINUM, APO, New York
Michael.West.III PLATINUM, APO, New York
22 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
I would rather to never have felt love, than to feel so loved one
minute and in the blink of an eye it all be gone, left with nothing
more than this broken heart I have now. - Anonymous

The smell of the wet grass wakes all up first,
barely ahead of the chirp from the little bird out the window;
all in perfect time to wake all up from little soft deaths of sleep.

The blood-orange disk rises slowly but steadily
over the cracks and gorges on the face of the planet,
rising above grey chalk clouds, and pink-silver paint streaks.

Illumination on all that either is still in silent snoring slumber,
or crawling and moving, looking for fresh berries and leaves;
the coffee and eggs of all that is not human.

Still beating, the sound of your heartbeat, as it matches
second-for-second as the burning disk climbs higher,
catching and transforming chalk grey into powder sugar white.

Clear upper ocean pours through the heavens palette;
splotches of chalk, powder, blood, and rose;
all blend in and around the upper ocean and blood-orange burning disk;
heralding in clock-work cuckoo of rooster and chime.

May 'morrow be a hearty morning, a laborious day, a cessational evening and a little-death filled night, brought in by high and low contrasting disks of blood-orange light and silver-black shadow.

The author's comments:
Written as I stared at the sun rise, which I haven't done in what seemed forever. Enjoyed both the poem and the sun rise with a good cup of tea.

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