He stirred today, 

to creeping slants of morning light

from the gilded day; their pale

gleam, slow stole in through 

the glistening pane made moist with dew.

Then found his way,

toward the pallid summer’s

shine that caught his eye; a trick

of light, emergent from the

cloudless skies and carmine hue.

What met his sight,

not sunlit rays, but shards of

splintered moonlight from the

silver sun; their lingered cool,

enduring  through ascendant day.

And thought of her, 

so out of place, a glimpse of

guileless beauty in the deep,

blue bay; it’s temperate glow

resplendent from exalted heights.

He wished to soar,

towards the fulsome herald

of perpetual night; a hushed

mien, the weightless landscape 

of a skyline and its gentle guise.

But learned his place,

in awe beneath the dayspring

and its breaking glow; a splendour

fused, faint remnants scarred into

his memory and its silent grief.