Slowly

Slowly, morning light brightens the East turning blue sky amber and rose. Slowly, a bird rises from the dark woods and becomes dawn. Night’s misty breath climbs upward like a half-remembered dream struggling to exist in the day. Slowly, stir the day fliers and criers opening their eyes to life. East overpowers West as day rises from night. Slowly, this moment tilts from our grasp and the soul of things fades under a new sun.