August morning light,
like the ancient bird of myth,
resurrects from the
black ashes of night,
Immortal wings spread
steadfast,
illuminating,
exposing,
daring,
laced seeds of grass,
gold-faced florals,

red migrating
hummingbirds that
soar through the great
bird of myth’s light
production wings,
this August morning.
Soil-rooted plants
bend and bow to
this moment of
a billion years
of life
regeneration,
while human-kind
mistakenly
seeks dominion,
blind to the wings
of an
August morning light.
—Charmaine Coimbra