Morning has broken
Night slips away to a place further than silence|
as dawn, dressed in a blood red shroud,
climbs through the shadows in my book of life.
I watch as the ravens take to the sky
greeting the day with song and winged flight.
Morning has broken but I, clay to the earth,
stand transfixed with arms spread wide
yearning to fly like the birds, into the sunrise.
© 2015 firebird918
(All rights reserved)