In the chill of that wind
Whose head and tail whips all the trees
Into their bobbing dance,
This morning rises.
It shakes its heavy head and
Rubs its eyes.
What sleep could it find last night amid
The darkness of rain
Its torrents loudly announcing
Their imminent domain?
And now, the wideness of
The sky illuminated by
Some sun, somewhere
On the other side of that blank wall of clouds
Brings freshness to the air,
Lifting our heads and
Starting within us anew
The day we know it can be.
Joanna Horton McPherson 