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the sun remains patient with the ambling clouds climbing to its golden zenith there is no point to try to deceive the day will unfold as it will follow and you will do well
the slow and steady sun seems to rise as the planet turns not a mechanical grind of manipulated movement but an effortless poem spoken in a single breath
the sun like a powerful mare no need for chariot or whip the sunrise of its own accord happens without any planning your only task is to receive her blessings and beware
in spring the sun rises out of sleep and the sleeper rises out of the darkness of dreaming shrugging off aching in the bones shrugging off winter to embrace the blessèd return of the light
like a fragment of blue sky that makes a promise to the trees to bring the people to their knees i dedicate myself to the good of everyone and promise to share my good fortune
truth is a thin filament faintly showing the sunrise as a silver glowing on the line between river and sky even in the april snow the songs of birds declare it
traveler take warning keep your wits about you this morning above the clouds the sunrise is only a suggestion until touchdown brings you round to your next flight of fancy
my manuscript of the morning light waiting to be assembled will draw upon reflections that dance on the flowing of this canal in spring the great poets will guide me
"things are not what they seem" time is lurching forward in strained gasps as the sun rises a horrible man stands on the horizon but no need to fear for he will soon fall
the sun gives birth to itself be like the birds waiting for the day to reveal its path take a deep breath and suspend your belief and your disbelief in the certainty of beauty
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