First Light

First Light

a poem by

Stephen Leake

illustrated with images taken recently while looking for light in winter

Away from the house, the star is reluctant. Pushed from its window of sky.
It stalls at the morning’s shelf, lettingFabled light open history. Again.
It stalls at the morning’s shelf, letting
Fabled light open history. Again.
Tardily, it drops its gifts.
Tardily, it drops its gifts.
-Modest opulence brimming with season-
-Modest opulence brimming with season-
Its warmth, a glass spirit held in the hand.
Its warmth, a glass spirit held in the hand.
And, as the day is made special with prayer
And, as the day is made special with prayer…
It will fall. Fall back to its dream. ThereIt will sing. Unwrapping the day
It will fall. Fall back to its dream. There
It will sing. Unwrapping the day…
With its presence.
With its presence.
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