The Dawning

To the East, a sky ablaze with glory;

golds and orange tell Gaia’s story.

A single deer then wanders by

as the orange orb ascends the sky.

Soon, from the trees, the Dawning Songs

as life awakes where it belongs.

Old Sol awakes, life’s essence weeps;

into our hearts it slowly seeps.

Perhaps one day I just might find

the truth that lies within my mind.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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