I wake to greying dawn of day
as time stands still, suspended…
breathe November’s crisp and brown
edge of winds upended.
Westerly gusts, with gratitude,
turn my head to see the dawn
escape above the edge of earth
into the grey and covered morn.
Last slivers glint unto my eyes,
raise a spark of hope, I pray,
carry me beyond the waking,
pull me through another day,
calm in all life’s coming…