The Breaking Dawn Poem by Kevin Maroney

As I sit here in my bed of night,
weaving long poems which but as metaphors burn so bright,
I wonder why, how I might,
see another, uplifting sight.

I thought this place, this lovely deep,
was all that in my mind need seep,
a place so full of wonder and awe,
that I need not for the wall break out the saw.

But then a glimpse, the smallest glance,
did I find, and by naught but chance,
I saw through clouds and perilous voids,
something that previous left me annoyed.

No longer for the clouds did I cry,
but at the breaking dawn do I sigh.