The Lion of the Dawn
The sun sliced through the ample sighs
Of the foggy dawn and grazed
The inert life in each
Quiescent leaves
Of the forest's canopy.
The world was a burning orb
In the misty horizon
Of its arid skin.
Every fraction started
Rousing into life,
From the blossoming buds
Of the wild bougainvilleas,
The elucidation of
The forest floor clad in moss,
The subtle tremble
In the boughs
Of the yawning tress,
The lifting waves
Of the hampered grass,
The fading of
The cricket's revelry
Paving way
For the cacophonous harmony
Of chirping birds;
And there was something sublime
Inside the chromospheres
Of the fulmination of life.
Something supple as
The battering of eyelashes
That is all the same surreal
That it can set forth
Colossal waves to another
Acknowledging eye.
Unfortunately,
Only a lionhearted soul
Could grapple this in sentience
Without suffocating the feral splendor.
In the belly of the shuddering abstraction
Lies a pristine vista
Of an olive pond.
It was making billowing ripples
Instigated by a pink unwavering tongue.
Massive paws rested on the fringes
Of the sodden aqueous mirror,
Serpentine tail wags in svelte grace,
And tuft suspicious ears
Twitch invariably as
An immensely sized and aloof head
[...] Read more
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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