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