Uploaded April 2024 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
10 Sunrise
There in a hushed first glow,
Shadows fade; dreams take flight,
In a whispered promise,
Blessed by gentle defused light.
But you can see it and feel it,
So it can not be a dream,
But you also know in that moment,
It’s much more than a beam.
But then a soaring variation,
As the sky melts into day,
Angular rushes give up the dark,
Dawn is dancing in a shadow’s way.
With fingers of pigment,
The sun light flows over the whole scene,
Cactus flowers white and red,
Pine trees shades of green,
With this gentle revelation,
Comes a story in the light,
As it mocks the fading specter,
Which now is retreating from the night,
So get up now, this moment,
With the Sun’s new found ascent,
Shake off that dreamy darkness,
And get out of your tent.
Your head is back home now,
And with melodies so sweet,
It is the sound of a song bird,
Your hearts and souls they meet.
Dawn on the desert,
And that song from the choir,
Now the smell of hot coffee,
And the sound of a crackling fire.
Our tenth prompt today, "Sunrise." The prompt reminded me of a deer hunting trip I took with my Dad in about 1957. We spent a couple of nights camping on the valley desert floor in the Tehachapi Mountains. Not sure I appreciated it as much as I do now, but sleeping and waking up in the desert is both magical and dangerous, and you can imagine why. The landscape is grand and wonderful, but everything that lives there hates you a lot. But I can tell you this, the smell of coffee on a mesquit fueled fire makes everything else seem like a trivial argument with yourself.
10 Sunrise
There in a hushed first glow,
Shadows fade; dreams take flight,
In a whispered promise,
Blessed by gentle defused light.
But you can see it and feel it,
So it can not be a dream,
But you also know in that moment,
It’s much more than a beam.
But then a soaring variation,
As the sky melts into day,
Angular rushes give up the dark,
Dawn is dancing in a shadow’s way.
With fingers of pigment,
The sun light flows over the whole scene,
Cactus flowers white and red,
Pine trees shades of green,
With this gentle revelation,
Comes a story in the light,
As it mocks the fading specter,
Which now is retreating from the night,
So get up now, this moment,
With the Sun’s new found ascent,
Shake off that dreamy darkness,
And get out of your tent.
Your head is back home now,
And with melodies so sweet,
It is the sound of a song bird,
Your hearts and souls they meet.
Dawn on the desert,
And that song from the choir,
Now the smell of hot coffee,
And the sound of a crackling fire.
Our tenth prompt today, "Sunrise." The prompt reminded me of a deer hunting trip I took with my Dad in about 1957. We spent a couple of nights camping on the valley desert floor in the Tehachapi Mountains. Not sure I appreciated it as much as I do now, but sleeping and waking up in the desert is both magical and dangerous, and you can imagine why. The landscape is grand and wonderful, but everything that lives there hates you a lot. But I can tell you this, the smell of coffee on a mesquit fueled fire makes everything else seem like a trivial argument with yourself.
