One Spring Morning

One Spring Morning

Morning breaks shadows night,

returns the color to our sight,

in crimson red, orange and white,

gale clouds pass into to light.

Orchid purples, pinkish skies,

as morning yawns an early rise,

old lilac blooms on robust breeze,

to mask the acrid air we breathe.

Clouds of grey in auras blue,

moving quickly, the sun shines through,

brilliant color in rainbow hue,

with solemn promise to renew.

Golden sunrays reveal dawn,

in forest greens on yellow lawns,

where lion weeds begin to spawn,

with flowers dead and florets gone.

Pods emerge in swollen display,

such perfect spheres in every way,

concedes the secret, suns array,

in calm before they’re washed away.

Operit winds wake apple trees,

with blight now present on their leaves,

their flowers waiting for the bees,

that shiver’s fever in the breeze.

Broken raptness robin’s thrill,

nourishment captured in her bill,

as thunder rocks the morning still,

and rainfall brings a misty chill.

Factory skies now cleansed by rain,

as earthen tears begin to wane,

a breath of air to ease the pain,

and flush the poisons down the drain.

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*Note: Lion weeds refer to “Dandelions”. The seed pod of the Dandelion has always fascinated me. When I look upon their fluffy white spheres, I see them revealing the hidden secret of a star’s energy. (Operit means Operatic ~ Opera)