Dawn

IMG_0535.JPG

I found an old poem I wrote as a teenager. It’s about the seasons of womanhood. : )
_

Dawn

Rays smile, beams dance down,
Morning, noon, then night pass away,
Images flicker, this circle shines now
A more yellow sky opens today–
Life rises, falls, in a rhythmical whirl
A pattern of arc, a spiral of light
Among the gold streaks a lone girl
Is watching the sun’s curling bright.
_
Here alone a girl is standing:
Waiting for the waking dawn,
Waiting in the morning’s rise.
_
Evening clothes her in antique hue,
Peace is the color, wisdom the word,
Silver portion is her’s, in this midnight blue–
To advise, to counsel, to teach, to award.
As the stars shine forth, on this, life’s last twilight,
I look at her bent hands, her dim eye,
A mother of mothers, a girl’s guiding light–
I hope she’s done much, for only doings don’t die.
_
Here alone a girl is standing:
Waiting for enlightened eyes,
Waiting in the morning’s rise.
_
Noon brings forth her blinding white
Love is the color, a wife and a mother
Bask in a soft warmth, this the highlight–
To hold her husband’s hand, her baby’s finger.
As the light blazes down, on this, life’s grand climax–
I stare at her full lap, her warm arms,
The keeper of home, the birther of souls,
I hope she is charmed, as now are all charms.
_
Here alone a girl is standing:
Waiting for the blush of love,
Waiting in the morning’s rise.
_
Dawn opens softly, her rosy fingertips
Clear is the color, new the idea.
Mist kissed is morning, fresh is each green glimpse–
A girl stands, on the cusp of what will be.
As the new day rises, with sleep’s veils ascent–
Drenching an old land, washing a clean face,
Her garden inclosed, spring shut up, her fountain sealed yet,
I hope she is ready, as she now runs the race.
_
Here alone a girl is standing:
Waiting for courage to come.
Waiting, in the morning’s rise.

-Rachel

%d bloggers like this: