Painting by Edvard Munch
All awakenings
Should be shot with gladness,
Like the first dawn blush
In the eastern sky,
And the song of the first bird.
* * *
Rising sun reaches
Between scattered clouds,
Tears the tattered veil of morning,
Turns shadows into light.
* * *
Buds swell,
Green spring
Creeps slowly to eclosion,
And in the promise
Of blossom and summer scents,
Are all of autumn’s falling leaves.
* * *
When first we met,
And we were young,
We took life easy
As a summer’s day.
We gave no thought
How seasons turn,
And winter’s never far away.
Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 