from a dark silent void
named sky-
draped in robes
of blood orange
like a flag unfurled
she reaches,
reaches high
to share her light
with all of Earth.
She penetrates
our mantle of sorrow
with her unconditional love
and quiet mirth.
Her radiance cares not
for how we call on God
but that we sense
divinity waking
in her wide approving nod
in her persistent rising grace
in my daily being able
to look upon her face.
Morning sun
shining light
on all who grieve and mourn,
on all those passing over
and on all lives being born…
your humble sacred gift to us?
This life,
this day,
this morn.
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