A Poem of the Day
The rosepink fingers of the dawn
Caress the grey of clouded sky.
Aurora wakes, stifles a yawn;
Hearkening to the hue and cry
Of dawn's melodious chorus sung
Among the treetops and the dew;
Each trilling throat giving sweet tongue
To welcome day that's born anew.
The creatures of the night retire,
Bedding down in cosy burrow;
Sung to sleep by dawn's rich choir,
Dreaming of a new tomorrow.
Woken by the same dear strain,
The daytime creatures sniff the air;
Behold each other on the plain,
As if to say, "The day is here!"
Aurora journeys past the meadow,
Through desert, forest, then finally,
Her colours change as if in echo,
She gracefully bends to meet the sea.
Blues and greys merge in the foam,
Nimble fish flash through the waves;
Aurora follows where they roam,
Silver against green wall engraves.
Her greeting to the ocean done,
She climbs the sky to dizzy heights;
A time to rest, her zenith won,
She watches earth's intriguing sights.
A drama plays out far below;
Her gaze falls on a battling pair.
To death a hero fights a foe,
Bleeding under the noonday glare.
A moment longer, then on she moves;
She judges not our petty woes.
She neither cares nor disapproves,
On rich and poor alike she glows.
At last she stretches, yawns and dives,
Plummeting towards the earth again;
Sunset inflames the tiny lives
That spark below however mundane.
A farewell kiss the ocean brushes,
It's cheek ablaze with firey light.
Then, water light and fire crushes,
The sun retires for the night.
Good night sweet sun, prepare rebirth,
Rest well, return upon the morrow.
That once again we may share your mirth
And forget our own dark sorrow.
