Dawn Lights

As the sun is lifted
By foreign hands
Giddy expectations
Swell on the quiet land
And as that pregnant orb
Releases its burden
unto fields and sea
A murmur of prayerful
voices whisper
That life will never
Seize to be.

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Monsoon Sunrise

This is what I woke up to at 5.30 A.M today. And I mean that quite literally because the whole outward facing wall in my bedroom is made up of glass. I love when the rice paddies get completely flooded with water so that they can work as a mirror for the rising sun.
A balm for the soul. 💖☀️💖😊

The sum of our loveless days

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The morning air has been
whipped into frost to mend the
Barrenness of broken paths,
Sunned to death by the sum of
Our loveless days.
Reaching branches, sketched by
Dawn, break black and rise out of that
White and gray sea
Where farmers gather rivers
into veins to thin out
Our sorrows.

A Sense of Expectation

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The morning air is laced with coriander.
Thick white fog creeps up my bare arms,
The wet cold licks make me shiver
Despite the spring heat.
Crows whine on the rooftops,
Shedding black feathers as they scavenge
For breakfast.
There is a sense of expectation in the air,
As if the fog has veiled something,
A truth that is waiting to show itself
As soon as the remains of winter lift.