The suns light shines through the mist of morning
Glimmers of the future suspended in time.
Tales of pain and pleasure, loss and love.
The mist of morning slowly dies.
Daytime comes and the sun is high.
Centred bridge from the morning to the night.
Blessed joy of presence there, nameless, shameless.
The light fades slowly as the afternoon draws near.
Lavish colours bask formless beauty.
Darkness comes, the light is gone, untamed shadowless night.
Midnight comes, the clock strikes twelve, clouds part their wings.
Moonlight shines bright casting shadows on torrid shapes.
All falls and morning dawns.
Mist in the morning.