The rising sun is reborn

from its death in the west.


It rises past the horizon

to shine in your eyes

It blinds you at first

but then it brings light.


The world is revealed

from its dark cloak once again

The day has begun

Something new is in the wind.


The birds see it safe to chatter

the rays showing where to go.

They see their companions

have lasted through the night

and sing.


Golden Mist

The mist reached down to where the enlightened one stood

She looked up to marvel at it

And realized that it wasn’t really there

It was a trick of the light

A trick played on her senses

Just like tricks had been played on her before

The air could not glow

It was how the sunlight was hitting it

Despite how it might look otherwise

That was the truth

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