The Quietest Hour

I savor the morning’s quietest hours
When the moon is pried from the fingers of night
And dawn creeps along the horizon
Shooing away the darkness, whose time has past
The heavens transform
From star speckled gloom to azure canvas
Revealing possibility
The birth of purpose
Motion sings the dirge of inertia
An echoing foot fall into the unknown

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “The Quietest Hour

  1. Carol

    Glad you are back!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s