A Sonnet of sorts …
I’m writing some other stuff and as a part of it there was a need for a poem or quotation or something regarding the beauty of nature arising from out of the bleakness of night. Now, I’m certainly not Shakespeare, but the sonnet style of verse captured the essence of the piece, and though somewhat clumsy and a bit contrived with the rhymes, I think it gets the point across somewhat. I hope so anyway.
Dawn
The sun rising on the eastern skyline,
breaks day with amazing colours sublime.
Gradients of red through the richest blue,
send dazzling rainbows from the morning dew.
Warmth resonates from where the light does reach,
Gently caressing awake from his sleep.
The earth below from a slumbering bliss,
Awakens slowly, refreshed, nothing amiss.
The light creates through its gentle comfort,
a visual memoir to natures concert.
The dancing mist remains close to the ground,
like a warm woollen blanket worn as a shroud.
Until the earth has awoken to the new dawn,
A moment which lasts the length of a yawn.
If this could even prompt one person to actually watch a sunrise on a beautiful spring morning, I would be happy.
Though I’m not generally a morning person, I find watching the sunrise to be a rather spiritual and uplifting event. Even when I was in the Shetland Islands, I’d get up at 2:00 am (it was June and that’s when the sun comes up there!) to watch the sunrise, sitting on the window ledge of my room. Or I’d go out to the dock and sit and experience the chill stillness transform into cool warmth as the sunlight touched my face and body.
Unfortunately, I live on the West Coast in Vancouver, and there isn’t terribly much satisfying about watching a sunrise over a bunch of buildings and skyscrapers, however, I do still enjoy the play of light and energy the sunrise gives. Occasionally, watching from English Bay gives a sense of the magic, but there are too many distractions from the city - especially the light pollution that abounds.
I lived in Campbell River many years ago, and the summer sunrises there were spectacular. I would sit on the beach, (Miracle Beach - aptly named!) and look out over the Discovery Passage to the southeast. The dawn sky would turn from inky black, through royal blue, then just at the horizon a fire would begin. The fire - a deep oxblood red would rise slowly through crimson, purpling the sky with its luminance. Slowly, creeping its way higher, the point would become a line of orange fire, then lighten to bright yellow. At the moment, just before the sun breached the horizon, the sky would dim leaving the horizon line black above the reflections of the ocean. then rising slowly from the blackness of the horizon, the sun would appear, its corona appearing above the line for just the briefest moment. The slight curve of the earth visible, as thought the light were pulling at it from afar. Then the golden orb would appear, bringing with it its warmth and vitality, cautiously stepping toward a new day - the light from its ever increasing brightness turning the line of shadow into brilliant daylight. Basking in the warmth of the new day, and the sunshine fresh from its sleep, I would close my eyes and let its refreshing warmth envelope and caress me. The relaxing, nurturing energy encompassing me - and I would usually fall asleep, or meditate, or whatever it was.
Anyway,
hope you enjoy the poem
Wayne