Ode to the Peaceful Morning

Notes: While driving down a narrow country road in winter, after a light snowfall, the sun began to rise. The ever-changing scene before me was so spectacular that I stopped the car in amazement. As the sun continued to rise it appeared that color was being spilled on the rolling drifts of snow.




Ode to the Peaceful Morning



Dewdrops twinkle
         in the roaring furnace
                    of a promising sunrise.
The soft winter coat
          of snow awakens
                    from its blue-grey shadows
                              of night
                    to the reflected crimsons
                              of dawn.
Branches stretch drowsily
          With the first gentle breezes
          shaking off the sleep of snow
                    (which had settled during the night)
          and the geometric crystals of ice
                    which drop musically
                              through the furry boughs.
The first early hunters of daybreak yawn
          begin stalking curiously
                    appetites
                              not yet whetted
                                        by the sun.
          Far different
                    are the relentless killers
                              of mid-afternoon
                                        and evening.