The Morning

[GERGE]

The atmosphere was grey and translucent.
The birds sang sharply on the young twigs.
The earth would be quickening and hastening in growth.
Blackthorn was in blossom , white and wet ,
Its tiny amber grain burning faintly in the white smoke of blossom.
Purple twigs were darkly luminous in the grey air ,
High hedges glowed like living shadows
Hovering nearer ,
Coming into creation.

The lake lay all grey and visionary
Stretching into the moist
Translucent vista of trees and meadow.
Fine electric activity in sound came from dumbles
The birds piping one against other
The water mysteriously splashing
Issuing from the lake.

The morning was full of new creation.