SUNRISE

Calmly, the sun grows
from the East hills,
a tendril from a yam heap.
Patiently, her rays negotiate
for the sky, dissolving
the gloom of night sky.

We look round and see
the sun’s face opening
wide at us.
Leaves, open like a church tray;
Streams flash their smiles.
She beams, the sun.

Night, dark night,
Where is your awful owl now?
Where is your pitiless lion now?
Where is your laughless mood now?
And where, your haunting dreams?

This dawn is our shepherd
and it has come to stay;
we will maim you with curses,
Oh dark night, if you return
with your nightmares.

[Image Source: unsplash.com]

Truly yours,
@samueloption.