Chapel Pond,
Through the branches of black spruce;
The far shore alight in new day's sun,
Reflected in still waters,
Like hand-blown glass.
At last the sun
Clears the ridge behind me
And the foreground lights up like a stage;
Yet deep shade beneath the spruce canopy provides drama still.
•~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~•
The cliffs that tower over the road
Across from Chapel Pond
Are impressive in this light.
Like rough and rugged slag and steel,
All shades of grey,
Cedar and spruce clinging tenaciously
In its cracks and crags.
The sun warms quickly now
And the sky clears to one solid, majestic shade of brilliant blue,
Unadorned by mist and cloud,
Paled only near the white-hot sun.
And so the day begins!
•~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~¤~•
The sun rises
And everything changes.
We are renewed by each new day.
We are the same
And we are different.
A better person: for this I pray.
No comments:
Post a Comment