I miss the sun rising as I wake up by Brooke Wade

I miss the sun rising as I wake up

by Brooke Wade

I miss the sun rising as I wake up,

Color splashed and sprayed,

Arrayed,

Against a golden sky.

I miss the sun setting late at night,

Color laced and laid,

Portrayed,

Going and coming all at once.

But I know the sun will rise again,

Silence shouted and sounded,

Grounded,

Light bringing forth the day.

And I know the sun will set,

Echos hooted and haunted,

Flaunted,

Becoming memory.

These things all will come again,

Antiques practiced and perfected,

Recollected,

And make the world seem new.