Music comes first from my heart, and then goes
upstairs to my head where I check it out.
~ Roberta Flack
Golden lace.
sunrise pours slantwise
into clear water
through the blue spruce,
the deep tangle of pine
and purled woodsmoke.
I turned
and the earth hushed.
While I leaned into silence
a morning too vast to fathom
filled with light.