Sunrise In Pachling by Patricia Mae Young
Snow blows across the road
like white fire,
my feet walk over it
without feeling cold or heat.
The change has begun.
I am unaware of pain
though I know agony licks at my feet.
The sun is eclipsed
by flames
and suddenly the world
is on fire.
Nothing I've known before
equals this moment.
You ask me,
"where does time go?"
And I answer,
"it slips into a shell
to form a seed
for future plantings."
Once I was black as
coal deep in the bowels of earth.
But as I surfaced
I grew like the diamond
refracting light into colors.
Previously published: Odyssey, A Journal Of The Humanities, December 1986, Oakland University, Honors College, Vol. 9, Numbers 1 & 2, Rochester, Michigan 48309-4401
Images And Language An Anthology and Video, 1987, published by Writers' North and funded by The Michigan Council for the Humanities, Nisbet Building, Suite 30, 1407 South Harrison Road, East Lansing
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