<- Click here for the audio version of ‘Brief Moments’.
In that brief solitary hour
From when sun first raises its reluctant head
above the near horizon
And hoists above the treetops,
There are a few brief moments of magic.
Birds have ceased their pre-dawn chatter
And not yet begun their raucous cries
Of territorial domain.
Sunday morn declares a day of rest
With blankets pulled over heads
Of Christians having given up the practice.
Nonetheless, a magic time,
When things align to bring a moment’s peace.
Silence reigns while the day’s promise
Of rising temperature and humidity
Gain full traction in their climb.
I sit here, coffee in hand
And think about times of long ago
When all the days were magic,
The birds all stilled
And the sun caught in its course.