Poetry

Hunting, shortly before dawn

January 4, 2011

I take a thick breath trudging in a morning of heavy
and dense forests,
striving to break through the fog,
working when others think I aught to sleep.

It is a work best done early,
this searching among the trees.
The mute snap of breaking twigs
and crisp of leaves beneath,
echoing a prayer of voicelifted among the filtered light
pleading for discoveries.

Then! A glint – brightness in a field of wood
as Wind comes to clear the fog;
the rush – a passion of movement
in uncovering the gold.

And I return, lifting my eyes from the page
bearing a soul filled with wonder
scribbling out my thoughts
in a glory’s sense of praise
preparing, longing to bring others
to discover for themselves
the treasure that I’ve seen.

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