Aubade: Night into Morning

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We lie under high arched windows
awake in the deep winter night
and gaze on the tallest trees
glazed in silver light.
They reach up to the radiant moon,
their fingers spread bare and plain,
raised in silent prayer
after December’s cold, hard rain.
Your face is bathed in these holy rays,
and I fight sleep; I cannot turn away
from truth so deep as the moon beaming
through our wintering trees ardently streaming.
But I close my eyes for a moment, then see
dawn drawing azure from night’s darkest seed,
and the trees’ golden limbs rising on high
to praise morning’s vaulting blue sky.
So I arise and turning to you I see
how night flows to dawn eternally
and to the resurgent world restores
the spring of our never-ending joy.
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2 thoughts on “Aubade: Night into Morning

  1. What a wonderful love poem, Steven. What I sense in you is a man who I would truly enjoy if we were neighbors. Maybe you’re the quintessential poet of faith and love, reaching into the substance of life and then reflecting that substance into words. I love this poem.

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