The coming of Light

Gray and mute.
There is no cadence in the wind,
As if numbed by the winter forest.
There is a stench of sorrow
Shrouding all safe exits.
Even the tide is holding its breath.
Then, a blossoming of light,
Soft violet and blush,
Splitting the ocean in a glittering trail
Of rose gold and silver.
The echoing cry of seabirds,
And feathers shivering
In the eddies of the wind.


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. 💖☀️💖😊