Shadows In The Morning Light
The Morning light comes, and there is an edge to the world.
Over the knoll, through the woods, fast in his labors Old Sol runs!
Reaches past solitary trees, spindly pine, feathery hemlock and white birch.
Under multitudes of shrubs and unfurling ferns, nodding their feathery heads.
Sol laces himself around this fauna and flora. Shapes like wizened old men and women.
Bent in prayer for earthy beings, blessed animals and other things. Out stretched limbs that reach for sky.
In silence they continually pray. They wave and flutter, then there is solitude. I am stilled, steeped in what I see.
Deep down in the lushness of this world plunges Old Sol to wake what’s there! Birds begin to sing!
Into emulated souls___ stemming from the base of tall trees___He is running past___yet touching everything.
Bumping into everything. Yet, deeper darker it lays there, napping, darker on the ground.
Still, kissed by dew. In dappled golden light, holding fast to its diamonds twinkling bright.
The lace of spiders hold twigs fast in place; Old Sol winds through these sunlight hours. I am amazed.
Restless dreamers wake, just a few. Oneness is found holding her fingers to her lips.
Serenity is her name. Good Old Sol! He knows that too soon___midday comes, then noon___.
Then night, with glorious moon! Luna’s graceful quiet touch gives all rest before they get up.
Tomorrow’s magic made, by conviction and repose. With his work done, over the horizon he goes!
Pejj Nunes 10/17/2021