Prelude to the Morn
Prelude to the morn, the dawn of day
the voyage of the sun that’s here to stay
and the roaring fires from the pits of the Earth
and the way they dance in rhytm and mirth
and turn their eyes to the darkness up high
and survey the environs to color and beautify
to see the ebon clouds to shine upon
and color in pink from the sorcerer’s wand
and break through the clouds to start the journey
to start up the engines and keep them churning
to break through the currents and vigorous winds
in obedienc to the rules and skyborne disciplines
mandated by the sky superiors from ancient decrees
and upheld since the time of the birth of the blue seas
for its westward voyage upon the beaten down path
of the nomadic sun and its sequentail aftermath
until its adorning of the clouds at evenfall
and its transformation into a big red fire ball
until its dropping into the cold, cold sea again
for tomorrow’s prelude for the colors to blend
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