SUNRISE – a poem

Sunrise, and the planet holds its breath.
The birds are stirring, the ants are underground.
Even the air is breathless, waiting in this holy moment.

And I know that even now, as the sun breaks water
In the seething Pacific Ocean, far away my home
Is still swathed in darkness, and will await
The coming of the sun over a long, red land.

Green spider-finches and pink-and-greys will wake there
And chatter their affirmations of family over a bloodied soil
And never remember that it was me who planted their fruit trees.

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