December 1975




Slowly the sun rose above the wood

Turning black to gold

It shone with a bright white light

That was almost cold


Up it went higher, higher, yet still higher

It seemed to be talking

"Wake up my wood and my world

Wake up my children"


In the middle of the day at its peak

It turned the seed to flower

With a bright light that warmed the world

Shining with great power


Now it set a-red as if it were on fire

Turning gold to red

Now it turned the trees to blazing torches

As it went to sleep


Alternate for last line:

And now it went to bed

April 1996