The light sensitive switch to my soul
is activated through my eyes.
Wherever I look there is a
venue for nature's message of hope.
Variety and repetition,
powerful and gentle,
subtle and gaudy,
and bright and dim
the show is never dull.
A morning drive south is a display
of black night giving way
to a light mother of pearl sky.
The first hint of light shows a broad pink pallet
through a fog filter.
The pumpkin orange
of the first tip of the
rising sun adds
a drop of blue to the
time lightened sky.
The gossamer fog hides
and then reveals
the pale yellow silver dollar
of early morning sun
like a naughty burlesque dancer.
The night tears
are the morning moisture
that make the sun seem as if
it is coming out of a
steamy morning shower.
The green leaves of fruit trees
are covered with dew as
they become glittering ghosts.
The daily light show begins
and my sleeping soul
is awakened.