It Is Always Sunrise Somewhere Poem by Jacques Fleury

Ahhh, the sweet smell of morning, coffee brewing, eggs frying, birds chirping, eagles flying…

Dawn has awakened to adopt the forsaken, those born without tongues;

They are the colorful birds without nests, outside of this daylight darkness looms with a smirk,

Patiently waiting for somebody's light to capitulate

To its black tunnel of nothingness and to laugh

When they get lost and stranded

On their way to salvation, but the morning's breath offers direction,

A sound that rings ripples in the sea of lost souls,

Anxiously waiting to escape the destitution that stands

Between the richest and the poorest; the destitution that stands on wobbly legs

As naked as a tree in the deep dark frost of winter;

The parts of the earth surrounded by rows of semi-invisible iron bars

Anchored from the ground to the infinity of the sky;

While affluent oppressors gorge on caviar…

And isn't it about time that someone asks "why? "

But the breath of dawn has come and it's blowing just enough cold

To seal the pores of the poor so that the venom of racism and classism

Won't infiltrate their gaunt paper thin skins.

They listen for the breath of morning to announce a new beginning;

Hoping to rid the world of famine…giving them a reason, particularly those sleeping on treason,

To get up in the morning, and to bask in the knowledge that

It is always sunrise somewhere…