Daybreak (After the Storm)

 

A sylvan pool echoes
with gently falling water,
the dawn's poignant music,
where birds sing harmony.

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The sun's swift, darting shaft,
morning's honeyed light,
sifts through the ancient trees,
flashes golden beams
and dapples everything.

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Sweet, flowering scents
ride a wandering breeze
that's stirring bright, green leaves
and filling the rain-washed air.

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At last the storm is gone,
and skies are blue,
and now high, way up high,
small clouds go scudding by,
tinged pink and red beneath
by sunrise hue.