Categorized | Poetry

Morning Light

As I sit here on the
Warm soft sand
The sky is still black.
The cold air carries
The sound of the waves.
Slowly the sky turns gray
Outlining embossed clouds.
Then, a streak of purple…and another; others more.
Dashing in the spaces between
They widen and brighten
As they turn lavender, red, white and green
Sifting their way through the clouds
Lighting the heavens with a parade of hues.
Orange spills and floods the entire sky
Overflowing to the sea.
Sea birds fly just above the horizon
Which has now drawn a clear line.
Finally, the magnificent glow of deep yellow breaks through
Dispersing the orange and giving birth to blue.

Every minute
Of every sunrise
Is a painting.

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