WHISPERS

   On the horizon -- from a tiny glow
   begins the signal for the rooster crow.

The seed that’s planted, in a magical way,
feels the energy of the coming day.

   Red and orange, in the bright hewed sky
   The seed comes forth not knowing why.

The light on its path; seedlings rock and sway
Both by the guidance of the day.

Activity flourishes, by power of the light
The seedling has no knowledge of the forgone night.

Straight overhead, in a backdrop of blue
The journey’s half over for the two.

Evening light glances, with colors and shade
the dint of the seed begins to fade.