Red Sky at Morning

All night has led to this:
dawn,
light that breaks your darkness
and shouts with joy,
except in the midst of it,
not a song,
but a warning,
red sweeping the horizon,
a promise
of storms yet to come.

So what then?
Do you flee?
Do you cringe in fear
of the conflagration ahead?
Do you weep?

No.
You dance
at the sun,
an act of joy in the moment,
and a survivor’s defiance
of the time to come.

About this poem.

As soon as I took this picture yesterday morning, I knew I wanted to write a poem to it. I even had the title in mind. What I didn’t have… was the poem.

So I let it simmer. Sooner or later, when you let down your walls, inspiration creeps in. And sure enough, this morning, the poem arrived.

Tom