An Ode:
Of Mists at Dawn
The breath of God carries you.
Molasses slow, you roll and move.
Drifting, leaves quiver beneath your belly.
Blue morning light, you awaken.
Heavy, you spread wide to haunt
the forest floor; trees suspend and separate.
Thick, you pillow and bellow and
they act like sky-scrapers.
Peeking, they hang and hover.
The army of you charges, encloses, embraces.
Hugging, you hold their necks,
lifting long and high above your reach.
You stay for a time.
Purple, the light changes shade
quicker than you can say goodbye.
Fading, you wrestle for life.
The shroud of you rips and recoils;
like a whisper, you’re but a moment
and the earth made lucid in your absence.
Unveiled, with grace you resign.
Vapors vanish away as they came.
Yellow, the light sweeps asunder.
A song alights your lover’s skin.
Requiem, the dawn calls forth
and you sleep until the day’s rebirth.
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