The Birthing
The Birthing
The Nightingale’s song has faded away
Eastern skies full of pink pastels at play
Set to embark upon a westward movement
With a new bright light across the firmament
The birth of a new day is in its forming
Out of dark corridors for nature’s warming
Casting coldness out with blazing torches
Covering the earth with greens and orchids
Too much traveling is enough come evening
Sunsets appear through a crimson opening
The need to rest when eyelids get heavy
A bursting against and through nature’s levy
Can’t fight the night off with tired arms
Or mountain sprites with magic charms
Sleep, sleep, sleep, ‘til mornings come
For a new birthing, for life on the run
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