Silence of the Dawn

In the green curl of the morning before the sun straightens in the sky, a gray light takes shape and eases me like an unspoken prayer. It is then that I blend like a blind question inside a circle of revelation. It is then that I am stilled thoughtless, a grasp of nothing in my hand with words that fall apart like gentle sandstone. It's an unfettered time. The sky looks like ice but, there's pulse in the dew and anxiety in the shut, sweating flowers. They clutch their gift until the caustic sun scrapes the sky.