Dawn By Elizabeth Reninger (1963 - )
at this time
when the light is not yet
useful, merely
beautiful
when a bright
honey pours
nectar over a curved
horizon, into a nameless
chalice, and your vision
wakes also, as if
to meet it, touching
everything
when for an endless
moment all
colors are
this
color a shimmering
fabric an infinite
wisdom this
body
of pure love, so suddenly
your own. . .