Watch! The early light from the distant sun slowly,
Quietly paints the fraught sky rose-gray, the clouds rose,
Unfolding rose, while mist lies in the far valleys, brightening.
The winter sun kindles a blazing path up from the hidden horizon,
Glowing amid the trees, rising, lifted from its secret resting place,
Far away, among the hills. There are no leaves.

Now, look! See!
The sun abides in the gates of day!
Ascending, it brings hope, a prayer!
It is happening! It is coming! We see!
We arise to greet the fire of heaven.

About the Author

After decades as an expatriate in Europe, Rick Kuenning lives in western North Carolina. His work reflects a keen interest in nature, art, culture, and religious studies. It also draws on a long career in international relations and national policy. His creativity is often sparked by dialogue with other poems.