Winter Sun
You may have
your languid summer skies,
all blue and cloudless,
they are beautiful,
in their own way,
I grant you.
But give me instead
the sharp ferocity
of a Winter dawn
flashing as a sword,
fleeting as the fast
glimpse of fox fire
between trees,
the quick conflagration
that pierces darkness
and hallows day,
and falls
upwards,
dragging hearts,
and land,
and love,
awake.
Sung skywards
with the mighty
choir of those
birdsouls
who lean forward
out of darkness
as lines are defined
in sharp shock
of brother Sun's first
frosted touch.
Yes.
Give me a winter sky,
a dawn divine,
an advent promise of
light beyond the dark
where every tree,
Illumed and stretching,
writes a gospel
upon golden air,
and the hidden holy
is seen as breath
upon the icy breeze
announcing in
whispered wisps
He came,
He comes,
will come again
like sun blast,
sun burst,
sun rise
of a winter's dawn.
(Some Pics of winter dawns from various locations over the years)
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