On a Grey Thread/Dawn

​

Dawn

Dawn opens like a great gold flower,Petal by monstrous petal,Quivering minute by minute,Hour by hour.Stretches great live leaves over hundreds   of hills,Scatters flakes of pollen dust into a   few valleys,Drops a loose petal down where a slender   waterfall spills.
Morning opens like a gold flower,Stirs and quivers singingly at the feet of day;Shoots transparent light into a moving mistThat twists spirallyLike a butterfly at play.
In the heart of the mist, morning opens, a   gold flower,Superbly, like a dawning passion.Can night be the consummationOf this expectant white hour?

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.