I rise at dawn and softly spread the curtains

To watch the pale sun rising over rooftops.

The early sky is beautiful:

Long, low clouds in light and shadow,

A palette of pinks and blues

From softest rose to deep purple.

 

Birds circle the dark, twisting trees.

Magpies sweep to the top for best lookout;

Pigeons bumble for a sturdy perch

Close to the trunk;

Tiny tits dart into the low mesh of twigs;

And all turn to the East

Lifting their breasts to The Sun,

Spreading their wings

For the first warmth of daylight.

 

It is an intimate, radiant moment.

I draw the curtains closed

And cuddle back into bed

With delight in my Soul

More warming than my duvet.

The New Year has been blessed.

Cynthia Buell Thomas, 2021