It was a little like watching a flower unfold...
Before the gold...
Now break of day, a sky-wide bud unfolds upon Time’s stem
And crowns the very breath we draw with hope's fresh diadem
…where morning's air is like a flower dipped in frost and mist
A plume of pink and golden bloom, of teal and amethyst
It stirs within the heart a humble will to trust the One
That moves through bars of stars to break the bud that holds the sun
© Janet Martin