I sit in dark meadows, awaiting the dawn,
Ringing cicada symphony, calling out to me,
Silhouettes stirring in amber breeze,
Serenade the golden rim of dawn,
Orange lights at meadow's edge flickering,
Branches, like orchestral notes,
Swirling to blossoming waves of emerald dawn,
That fill the windy horizon like a pale sea,
Sweet early dawn world,
Uncorrupted by the mind,
An Eleusinian mystery,
As misty meadows undulate in the breeze,
Pale ripples of cloudy lace,
Spawned from far ocean reaches,
Herald the coming dawn.
