The Eastern Sky in the Morning

This morning I am overwhelmed by the eastern sky.

Rows, cords, mounds of roseate lambs arrayed,

White which is not white but ivory,

Ivory is constantly changing

Into a deeper ivory,

Into a white that is unique to the moment.

Yes, constantly changing, dynamic, volatile,

A mobilization of forces energizing, enlarging the scene,

The vast sky a stage, showing its heart to me.

What will become of the pink lambs of morning?

Where will they spend their noon?

I want to think that they will not be lost

But muted into the giant white thunderheads

Making up my afternoon.

--August 26, 2013