Keeping vigil for the sun wasn't planned,
but I could not sleep.
Gritty-eyed, stumbling and late,
I ran down the path to the headland.
Pale light rising in the east.
This is the false dawn.
I greet a swan on her morning glide,
and settle on the rocks to wait.
Slowly, the clouds blaze with red highlights.
I pour a libation of clear, pure water,
and offer bread to the Sun.
Slowly, the sky brightens.
Red in the morning,
Sailors take warning.
I lift my hands to the light,
Seeing the symbols burning with power.
I know that it is joy that will lead me
from this sun drenched pinnacle,
back to winter's stillness.
I must carry gratitude's sweet lessons with me,
and keep the Sun at my center.
Compassion paves the path ahead of me,
and possibility is linked to accountability.
let go of straight lines drawn in ink,
whispers Katiyah, and the Ancestors.
It will be as it should be.
It all comes down to courage.
Trust is not revealed, but integrity is.
I take in these messages,
knowing the meaning will be revealed in time.
Walking back from the east,
I regret that the furthest cove
only held memories of last year's encounter.
In the nearest cove,
I find her, the white egret,
like paper folded into impossible angles,
gleaming in the sun.