Her Dawn

Around my circling bar a whisper stole...

The night-long drooping leaves stirred with the morn,

As gently she began to wind her horn,

And myriad tiny muffled bells to toll.

Along my harbor dreams began to roll

In from the sea I dreaded once, forlorn,

Fleeing an old nostalgia that, reborn,

Tugged at the worldly moorings of my soul.

My furlings fluttered, restless to be free,

Hearing her song. Soft dawned the morning star.

Then on a gust of bright reality

She loosed my soul. Full spread, I follow far

Across the sunlit seas of truths that are,

Shunning the fogs that seem and strive to be.