DAWN ON IONA

A POEM

 

FAITH

All is calm and still,

As a light wind picks its way

Delicately through the flowers.

The earth sighs of passing hours

As the moon’s sleepy head

Droops slowly into bed.

 

BELIEF

The moon appears slowly,

Sliding between the clouds,

Allowing those unholy

To use shadows as shrouds.

The night turns cold,

The moon becomes bold.

And darkness deepens.

 

The sun swiftly appears

Striding through the clouds,

Banishing the fears

Of the scared and the proud.

Fire scours away the night

Turning horizons alight

With golden magnificence.

 

HOPE

Black.

Pitch black.

Quiet.

Too quiet.

 

The world waits

With bated breath

For that first glimmer

 

Of light,

Of hope,

Of new beginnings.