Silver Sunrise Poem by Chelsea Crisman

She watches the beautiful dawn.
Her breath catches in her throat—
Never had she seen such silver clouds.
So soft and glistening white, those clouds rest on the sun.
The sun this morning is a pale whisper.
Bright enough to light the world,
Light enough to look at and be immersed in.
It is a mystery, a beautiful mystery.
The morning is brisk, yet comforting.
She has never felt so amazed by something.
Something as simple as a sunrise.

A tear glistens on her cheek, unnoticed.
She doesn't even realize she weeps.
Crying over the night lost.
Another night without sleep,
The wind was too tempting to resist.
Those tears are for the dancing no more.
What if she can never capture it again?
What will happen if that night is gone?
Will she never again be able to experience Zephyr's bliss?
She knows that that is a fate
She could never survive.

I feel for this girl.
She's lost in her own world.
Caught in dreams of fantasy thronged with poetry,
I doubt she'll ever meet reality.
I can't cry tears for her anymore.
Beauty over reality is a dream indeed.
NO! she forcefully screams.
I see beauty in reality!
Why can't you?
My heart aches for her now.
Her plea will be lost on this world of insanity.

Wait, I mean sanity.
Or is it reality?
Possibly fantasy?
I am unsure, and I don't like it.
I lose myself in the cool air and the soft winds.
How stunning a morning.
How strange a morn.
I'm caught in the beauty of silver clouds.
The pale sun makes me reminisce days of flying.
Suddenly it all becomes familiar.
Let me mourn the night before, for this morning she cannot rejoice.