Forever Morning Hue Poem by Christopher Withers

carried, on morning hue, i find
an almost timeless clarity,
so, as i sit here by myself
looking out (but, in truth, looking in) ,
i feel an ending, a beginning, and
this moment: frozen, ephemeral, yet eternal.
under such ferocious scrutiny, the universe
stopped of its grinding gait, stands still,
and for the briefest moment
everything is etched in the motion of
the timeless, illuminating photons.
a three dimensional snapshot,
held within the fathomless void,
soon forgotten, but
whose fleeting existence
will change and shape
all that will ever be