Morning Song

[ Morning - Jon Merk photo]

Wild Woman
is singing
her morning song,
a song of the sky
once the dark has gone,
a song of snow
on the rounded hills,
for winter is coming,
as winter will.

Wild Woman
is listening
for the wild wind's howl,
for the lashing rains,
for the thunder's growl,
when the sky opens up
and does its worst
then tiptoes off
having slaked its thirst.

Somewhere in the hills
the wild wolves run.
She listens to hear
a special one.
Wild Woman's heart
lives with them there,
though her feet are planted
in pastures bare.

A morning song
as the last star fades,
a morning song
that the sun
has made,
a morning song
as all creatures wake,
a morning song
as the new day breaks -
a song of the geese
across the sky winging,
a song of the new day,
small songbirds singing,
a song of the horse
breathing steam
in her stall,
a song of today,
the best day of all.