Summer’s Dawn

I watched Venus chase her fingernail moon companion of starry field
     skies
to the unknown shores and adventures of tomorrow’s impending night.

Summer’s dawn forcing Morpheus to relinquish his tenacious hold
as early morning’s cold raven takes flight and gives distinct song.

Thunderous wind buffeting quiet mountain valley ‘neath feathery wing
while gentle snow falls down on scarred and majestic granite peaks.

Glacial peak runoff becomes alpine river roar among ancient carved
      ruts as
I stand in morning majesty on the breaking dawn of a brand new
      season.

A cool seasonal rain falls on my shoulders, beading into the soft fleece
     vest
while on the other side of the valley animals call out, announcing the
     morning.

Sun’s first pink light pokes over mountain’s majestic peaks,
      emblazoning my soul;
I stare down the final wisps of night, relishing in the promise of
      adventure of a new day.

My sleepy companion stirs and grunts, shaking off sleep from a cool
      night and rough ground,
ancient soot from last night’s fire swirling in moist morning air, fighting
      to remain lit.

Logs stacked so neatly, so precise, on the evening previous now fallen
      haphazardly, in shambles,
now become fuel to rekindle our early morning breakfast fire, ready to
     be stoked.

Our campsite has yet to fully wake, for now the morning and moment
      belongs to us,
a father and son could not have asked for better views, or better
      company.

© 2015 p.hill

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