I wake to trumpet blasts
And the air sings with lemon light.
Buttercups flow from my fingers.
Smooth citrines shine in the arching vault.
Beyond the sliding stone
The world glows in a saffron dawn.
Firefly sparks spring from my hair
And rise to the gilded Heavens.
Behind, the silent path and the empty crosses,
Stark in the growing dawn.
Ahead, a road of shimmering topaz stones
And the rising Sun.
©2011 Christine Griffin
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