Morning at Shaw Island

 

(After Jane Kenyon)

 

Let the distant foghorn

fade

 while songbirds chatter us awake

Let fiery chariots of the east

 reflect

 on gray expanses

 of opaque glass ocean

Let all who will

 awaken

 wipe the sleep from rested eyes

Notice each sore muscle

ease

 into damp clothing

 as a new fire crackles in the stove

Let morning come

 

Let the gentle

 rumble

 of a passing boat

 drift away into distant sunshine

Let pink clouds

part

 allowing golden sun to

 pour

 over fallen leaves

Let dances of shadows

  reveal

 rustling of diurnal creatures

 as they begin

 to discover new edibles

Let morning come

 

Let the hum and bustle

 of day workers

 begin

 as they gossip another boat

 into the dock

 while they mingle their banter

with the song of the ferry

Let the crisp cool air

alive with salt sea

 fragrance

 awaken every pore as we hike along

 a new day

Let morning come

 

 to the tides of the bay

 the ripple of the wind

 over grassy meadows

 to the blossoms opening

their petals

 to sea life hidden underneath

 azure platforms

 perceiving watery diffuse light

 to the gliding of the seal

 the eagle

 the wide eyed doe

 Let morning come

 

The days stretch summer long

 softening into evenings

outlined

 by crimson sunsets

 bringing in the brightness

of a thousand stars

A bonfire

 

The island will slowly take of its colors

 put them away into cedar chests

 Retreat into patchwork quilt rest

 counting on tomorrow

 knowing all who trust in sleep

 that morning will come

 

 

 

~ by dianeklammer on March 1, 2013.

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