Sunday Morning Rise


The road back, ocean behind, right side harbor.
Who’d be ready, rounding the bend, for what I met?
Dazzling gray of brightness, taking one into an arbor
of dawn. Fog curtains sun, the radiance yet
visiting air with such immensity that ardor
climbs—then founders . . . the Light from where the sun’s beget . . . .


  Ronald Jorgensen
24 August 2003
© Ronald Jorgensen