Sunrise
This morning mist
gentles
the parched hills.
I know
the sun will come
again,
flowers turning
their faces to the light,
that light
so gentle and warming
and fiery
in its eternal force.
gentles
the parched hills.
I know
the sun will come
again,
flowers turning
their faces to the light,
that light
so gentle and warming
and fiery
in its eternal force.