I sat and watched the sun come up.
I could hear it spreading across the vault of the softening sky;
hear the aural beauty,
the song, the earthen majesty of its touch,
the warmth and blessing,
the nourishment of its grace.
Color fading into gray
- another little death -
sweeping backward from where it first emerged;
the arc complete
the song fading into silence,
into the circle of morning.
