Fire King

This is a poem that I wrote after watching the sunrise one morning in the woods.

Fire King
By: Grace Forciea

The colors die as the sun rises
higher in the air
a trumpet fanfare for a Fire King
a ring of reds and oranges
dancing in the winter crisp
bit by the beauty bug
shrugging off cloaks of golden silk
and Ruby blood pulsing through wild veins
rushing to the brain
a pin prick of pain
as we strain to touch the power of the sun
wishing to be one with the sky
lifted feet off the grey ground
floating with pink clouds around the world
handing sunrises to solemn people
and announcing the arrival of
new beginnings to a new day
And at night when the light
dwindles and fades
the gasp of infinity will fill the atmosphere
and a glance upward into the darkness
will take you away to a place where
sunrises are announced with the bringing of life
to replace the hues of fanfare.