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When Morning Came MAG
March 8, 2017
When morning came I kissed the newborn sun.
The sky was crystallized with golden sun.
The sun spoke to me, asking me to kiss her.
I obliged.
How could I not kiss the fiery lips
of the solar system? My breath stopped,
everything stopped, I was stopped by the pause
of endless light, a world of light, a sky
so damp with rainwater that it sang.
Rain fell as we kissed and it was beautiful.
When morning came I kissed the newborn sun,
and immersed myself in a world of light.
© Kimberly H., Summer Shade, KY
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