In morning sun, the clouds hold gold and gray,
its deeper blues relieved by harder graft;
as if to choose which role the day shall play.
Life's journey is a slowly savored draught
As time unfurls the sails, this fragile craft
can glide through wilted hearts, along the way
the rising sun sets upon the fogged waft
to blend into a white and blue bouquet.
As bolder beams become a golden shaft
the will holds firm, and does not fall astray.
The rushing waters calm, in shallows draft
where muddy shores give way to arid clay,
to gaze upon the solemn desert lands,
an ancient river’s womb, these burning sands.
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