Dawn’s first glow
rises in the east,
stirring the valley
with the touch of life—
orange blush
bathes the sky,
beacon lit
across the divide.
In the quiet hush
between night and day,
I set my compass
by sorrow’s star,
and cross the threshold
from shadow to light.
photo – Louis MacKenzie
Reading of “Threshold” with music by Leonard Bernstein
Don, a lovely poem with its sunrise description but I was startled by the reference to sorrow. When the sky is lovely in the morning and the day is ready, a feeling of sorrow doesn’t belong.
Poetry demands a deeper read.
Don — I apparently read your beautiful poem today more deeply than Bro Figel, whom we know is somewhat “poetry-challenged.” Perhaps if Tom would set his compass by sorrow’s star (like you & me), he too would be able to cross that threshold from shadow to light.