Watch Him rise, And watch the rising waters revel In His rich, reflected glow, A reverberation of the declaration Of glory true, in deepest hues of conflagration. Watch the fickle foam dance and slap On the old stone—black and grey—glistening; Grinning like a buddy who’s so jovially excited That they cannot help but punch some nearby stuff. They’re parched for this glory; they cannot get enough. Watch His depthless lights As they fill with relished, yawning bites The blackest, dearest nights, And the open, endless heights.
Watching the sunrise this morning (23/02/2024), I was inspired to take a leaf out of
’s Substack and put together a few words for the occasion—head on over to Potter Poems to check out his sunrise poetry and more.
Oh, I love this so!