Winter Dawn

It is here, The skies shouted

To no one in particular

While the clouds shed their tears

To white powder, floating, drifting

Where even our epiphanies are clouded

Mother draws her blanket

Covers her head and slumbers

A new day awakens unseen

Sun and moon will mark the time

While she dreams of her garden

Her morning bright in the distance

Far beyond low winter sun

 

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2 thoughts on “Winter Dawn”

    1. Once more my stilted attempt at poetry. It comes to me at times. Perhaps it did not properly fit in the context, but I liked the instrument of a clouded epiphany. Epiphanies are revelations, moments of clarity. With so much doubt to haunt us even these come as the wheat amid the tares….lost, clouded, uncertain. Like dawn in winter. It is light for a day in a season where we find ourselves so wnting for light. An idea better expressed in a poetic form

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