Opal (Sunlight Coming Through)


By Breia Gore

There are moments in the first light,
when the sky is just barely dress and
kitten breath is fresh on the tongue
that daybreak begs for the tweak of change.



Delicate teaspoon tap maneuver
from coffee to
creamy earl gray.
Mother Nature (unlike any other mothering figure)
will wrap you up in that warm, milky, sunlight
(ringing like a church bell).


She will sit you down,
(S C R E A M I N G)
slamming a dusty hardback of
all her stories
(A R M S  W A V I N G)
to explain the seasons and
her love of transition and how it can be.  


When the sunlight hits an opal just right,
gateways open up.
Sun up,
morning is on it’s way. 

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