fairiesnest

Sitting here in dusty slanted desert light, I watch the sun setting in hues of crimson beyond the window. My skin has slowly turned from Winter's ash to the brown of the surrounding land. A desert rat now; all I wish for is to hear the hidden Conversations between the cactus wren and the saguaro, The dust devil and the sand, The moon and the owl, The creosote and the rain.

The woods to the east slowly appear from beneath night's cloak, though they never fully relinquish their shadowy mystery. Branches and leaves sketch mysterious runes against the lightening sky. A bird calls, tentatively, and then falls silent. All is breathless, hushed, awaiting the miracle. A fresh day waits in the wings, newly born. From beyond the rim where the stars live, it begins to trace the steps of yesterday, tiptoeing quietly across the land, leaving stipples of dew in its wake. Aurora, then, all pale pinks and purples, rises above the wood with a corona of golden fire upon her brow. She unrolls the radiant blue scroll of the day, pushing the dark scroll of the night ever to the west, until it disappears beyond the horizon. She smiles her brilliant eclipse of a smile, and all the world awakens from its dreams.