Poem – The Mists of the Morning

 

The mists of the morning tear at the waves,

Old towers gleam white in the light of the day,

 

And already the glorious sun so joyously seeks

The seagull calls out saluting the creeks.

 

I look up at the heavens so fair,

Though, the fog swept my mind away in the chair,

 

From that dark, lonely tomb inside the tree,

The owlets stared brightly back at me.

 

But with their hoot, my mind has flown.

In their bright eyes, I am seen and known.

 

Into the waves that glitter Eternity’s stream,

As sunshine disperses this nights dream.

 

Inside I have waked amidst pure glories unknown,

And I see that the owlets have left to find their own.

~Suzanne Wagner~