The Hour of the Sun
By Luke Rook
The room is empty with darkness
The shadows of the moon grow short
The singing birds call to warn us
This morning is a different sort
The sound of the rain flown away with the night
The shadows of the sun begin to rise
Drifting into that brief moment in time
When the darkness is filled with impossible light
The shades are drawn, the curtains closed
The darkness belongs and the room is still cold
Outside the warmth of summer brings heat
The whisper of morning's silence is told
The stairs that lead from the cellar
Take them lazily out to the day
With squinting eyes and aching thoughts
They greet the fields for which they've prayed
The winds had blown and the ravines flooded
Roofs were broken by the might of clouds
The skies that night were finally opened
And all their prayers came pouring down