A Poet's Dawn

I love the smell of the lake at dawn, It's so peaceful here, just to sit and listen No sounds but the waves slapping, against the shore. Birds fly by undisturbed catching the mornings breeze. I've watched many sunrise here, With mother nature as mine only campaign. That’s just fine with me, it adds to the Personal experience it's a calming time Just to be shared by her and I. She the grand lady painting the horizon. I the writer with words devotion, Pen and paper ready at hand. I'll sit on a blanket, leaning against An old sun bleached log. Satisfying true hunger desire with Enlightenment’s simplicity. She being my eternal muse, The earthen mother of inspiration. Behold a masterpiece created by This divine maiden. Thus restless I walk along the shore, Trying to ponder freedoms liberation And how to express it. The blank page mocks me with emptiness's. Uncertainty. It's a humbling experience to watch an Artist at work. How do I capture what lies before me, A mortal with only simple tools to Relate such beauty Inks imaginations links humanities spirit, In this venue my name is solos, And I'm truly at home here, Lost amongst emotions glory. A poet on destiny's shore, to wonder Ever more in thoughts uplifting spiritual Connection. Excepting myself for whom I really am, A castaway laying thin upon the wind. Eating my lunch alone. BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN