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Morning Song

The morning sun rises on a crisp, cool day,
Indigo sky bright against fresh new leaves;
Dark trunks feathery against the moonlit night,
Gentle wind blowing through my senses on its way.

Lazy seeming stillness, a hush is on the land.
Bird breaks silence with his solitary song.
The giddy sun spills his wealth of gold upon the grass.
In this life of desert steps of God are on the sand.

Robert G. Brown 2007-03-21