This poem was recently sent in by George Kunnath
http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm245/spanospace/sunrise.jpg
The sun rises
every morning
At the
appointed time
It happens
every morning
Even when no
one sees the rising
It is a
spectacular happening
Day after day a
beautiful event
I was there one
morning
Watching the beauty of the moment
At the crack of
the dawn
In the twilight
zone
Feeling the
chill in my bone
From the
whirling wind of the dawn
The crimson
carpet laid wide
Across the
eastern spread
Welcoming the
royal triumph
Crowing the
mountain range
The golden eye
peeking through
The crack in
the mountain stretch
Rising from the
darkened depth
The golden ball
floating on the vast expanse
The lone bird’s
distant call
Announcing the
great event
With a clarion
call
The whistle of
the passing wind
The chirping of
many a bird
Chiming with
the surround
Staging the
orchestra profound
As I watched
the golden globe
With wonder and
baited breath
It transformed
into rings of colors
Like the
chameleon changing colors
The dancing of
colors led me forward
As I continued
walking ahead
Guiding me with
a leading light
Along the damp
dusty path
Moist from the
winter night
******
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