Slow Mercy – A Poem

There is a slowness to the winter sunrise

An unhurried separation of darkened sky and shadowed land

Purple and yellow and orange and red

Spread their blurring edges like a healing bruise

A spilling of paints on a table of dark blue

 

There is a slowness to the winter sunrise

A steady tease promising a warmth that ought to accompany the glow

The night pulled away slowly

Like a duvet that heated those under its comforting embrace

The warmth delayed in arrival, like a promise barely kept

 

There is a slowness to the winter sunrise

A steady unveiling of carefully collated mercies sufficient for the day

The threats of the land below

Diminished by the golden glow of fresh graces

An invitation to steady belief in a new batch of mercies

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