Sun's lowest ebb passes swift.... a second in time in silence through stone and out in space. Light rests inside like burning embers kindling sparks that scatter abroad and fall asunder.
I wonder.... when the sun shall die and hear the waves by and by that echo like an eagle's cry. Slumber comes... this winter's long- I wait and yearn for brighter times when blue and colour fill the days and spring releases golden haze.
I waken at the rising hour- the sun is new and gaining power as hope for concord years ahead in held within each moving tide.... thus flowing on with pride in conflict's stead.
Last Edit: Jun 26, 2022 16:30:17 GMT 9.5 by fjrogers
Distant peaks emerge....clear as day. The hermit's lantern turns to guide the way. Hermit's Way - F. J. Rogers