The Color of Dawn

Quiet down sunshine,
Let the petals of world, unfold,
Before you kiss its color,
And soothe the bruises left by empty men,
Who in crippled hands could not hold,
The fragrance of fantasy.

Your tendrils,
Awaking, tender blossom trees,
Weeps a pink shadow,
Upon mute eyes, aching,
Upon fingertips, shaking,
Upon old souls, breaking,
Through the colorless quite.

Quiet down, sunshine,
Under walls that hold,
Silence as a shield,
And secret as a show.
Let the stirring limbs, take a turn,
To a deeper sleep of sanity,
And those eyes half awake into another world,
Find your light, upon the fallen twigs,
A miracle to behold, and bring back,
Into this realm of togetherness.

How certain would the world be,
I ask of your face, O sunshine,
Fleeting through the emerald chaos,
Of meadows cold upon your tongue,
If you lit them alight,
In colors of their own choice?

2 thoughts on “The Color of Dawn”

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