HEAVEN'S HUES
The morning mist is silent - enveloping and still, motionless, covetous, dense, jealousObscuring all - it's moisture-laden arms locked fast, -
Holding captive, heaven's hues, pitching grey-black shadows and rendering the world colorless in the near-day
The sun... weeping... struggles to be free.
To be drunk, touched, inhaled, tasted, embraced,
To inject in a blaze, delicious beams upon the earth
To give consciousness and breath to all things in silent cantatas of illumination
To kiss the trees' moist leaves - saturating, sparkling, dazzling, glistening
To send the mist to it's death, in an celestial implosion of colour.
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