Monday, August 29, 2011

Sunrise

 
Across a creek she skips a song
to reach the other side.
Upon arrival she despairs
how high has grown the tide.

No turning back, it’s far too late;
the forest beckons near.
So damp and dark while all alone,
her thrill replaces fear.

The sun had set, deep color blooms;
a promise of the dawn.
But first she must trudge through
the night to find her rising song.

Festering fronds and plant debris
she scatters down the path.
Yet when she reaches thicket’s edge,
with love she breathes at last.

Now looking back upon her past,
there lies no telling trail.
A gracious breeze has swept the way
And here begins her tale…

Jennifer Burnside

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