I love how the rising Sun
Shoots its intensions across the sky
caressing the resigned but expectant Mountains,
bathing them in wider and wider
Maxwell Parrish pastels of
purple and pink and orange,
where there was only eternal dark gray a breath, a moment, before.
Poem “Rising Sun” by Sofia Penabaz-Wiley, on January 5th, 2023, upon opening the gate for the albañiles and rising to the 3rd floor to find the splendor of day had begun considering it’s ascent into The Times.
The simple version was:
I love how the rising Sun caresses the expectant Mountains,
bathing them and pastels of purple and pink and orange,
where there was only gray a moment before.
And I wanted to say something about the little doves, greeting that union in graceful explosions of wings and voice, but I dared not invade that peaceful space between the Mountains and the Sun, it stayed a bit quieter in verse.