The ebony cliffs fall to the seas
of parched green.
Dust, like spindrift, shadows the
sun
As it casts a crimson skyline
reflected on the bloodied earth.
Morning comes, gently from the
night
Stealing the shadows and
Warming the heart with a warm
light,
A
calm light
And
by midday, finelight.
The reawakening sees hopes enticed,
Fears
dispersed
And
joy reborn
With the smile of the eternal.
The breeze stirs the willow’s
whispers
The
hazel’s mysteries
And
evokes the rowan's charms:
The world is breathing deep.
New life, bending as the
Reeds in the blustery spread,
Eager in an expectation which rises
as the sap
Of the sacred holly,
Burns hopeful until the growing
dusk.
And time rides the horizon once
again
The breath of existence keeping
pace.
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