In that magic moment, just when morning light
is strong enough to chase away the darkness,
I raise the curtain, and the play begins.
A leaden-colored sky, dark and remorseful,
cannot hold back the Light. Little windows
of blue open and close among the slow-moving,
sullen clouds. Momentary invitations to
Mystery.
On the bird branch of the white-clad oleander,
a little sparrow sings the first aria of the day.
Her black feathered throat quivers as she
bathes the morning in rolling waves of song.
The hummingbird pauses at the penstemon
to hear the invocation, the wind dances with
green-trunked Palo Verdes, and scurrying
ground animals pause to take in the music
of the morning.
Near the peak of the mountain, Long Horn
Sheep, heads raised toward blue seeping
through cracks in the clouds, stop their
grazing and listen to the echoes of delight
from the valley below. Bravo!
Encore!