Poems From The Porch

Waiting for the Dawn

The morning light on the porch rails makes a pattern,

as if they are painted part white and part gray.

The 8 AM bells at the distant church sound,

and the nearby wind chimes ring in answer.

Every now and then there is a waft of the sage incense I am burning,

and the candle flame contained within the stained-glass holder wavers.

Now the sunlight spreads on the porch rails, revealing more white.

It reminds me that Light illuminates the true nature of things,

while the darkness of ignorance creates illusions.

I think it’s best to wait for the dawn before jumping to conclusions.