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Monday, 24 March 2014

Daybreak

By Chlele Gummer

Open the doors to the fading night

To hear:
The pulse of the crickets.
The first trill of the watchful bird
Testing its voice in the dark silence
Cueing the others waiting in hushed suspense.

To see:
The last star boldly gleaming in the east
Tenaciously holding its place
Against the persistent swell of the light.
Shadows of trees wait in dramatic silhouette
For the light to return to them their substance.

To feel:
The moist, cool air as it wafts and wanders into the room
Invisibly flowing and billowing around my feet.
It awakens and arouses my heart,
Quickens my breath and urges me to sing.

To sing:
As the light methodically invades the night,
The chorus of the living increases.
Each small voice joins the others
In the cacophony of sound,
Celebrating and consecrating our renewal
In the return of the sun.


[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post

Comments

Very nice work -- a little mystery, great imagery, wonderful choice of words. :-)

Your poetry is so lilting, and light and breezy.
I too go out in the night and just marvel at the sights and sounds, each evening different from the previous one. Welcome to ESTP.

Dear Chiele, (How do you pronounce it?)

You've captured the break of day movingly and beautifully.

The format, 'to hear, to see, to feel, to sing' was an inspired form. Love it, love it, love it.

Beautiful and uplifting. Exactly what I need on an early spring day after a long, cold winter.

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