supplication

morning came
on gentle wings
with blushing clouds
just peeking out
beyond the rim of night

morning came
and called me forth
from torpor's dreams
to come on timid feet
from mourning's slumber


this whisper hinting faith,
is it illusion,
a disillusionment;
or allusion,
a dis-illusion meant
to call me on to hope

and so I grope
through mist and cold
with unprotected feet
toward the spectered light
to look there
beyond this
mourning

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