Rising sun
from the far ends of the east
from tired slumber
reaching out outstretched
with golden blades of a zillion photons
it blinds fell beasts of nocturnal habit
chasing the darkness
into the far corners of the cold west
the mist rises, the dew falls from the blades of grass
the lark is giddy as she sings of time and earth
it is a new day
for life, love, and hope
-- Henry Akuete
(the Undying Poet)
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