Sunrise (Draft 1)
If you knew what the sunrise
really meant to me, when we
looked in the colors of us, and
when I felt like I could sing into the
rose of the sunrise, and knew
your thorns were not for me, then,
I know you wanted to be bold
and seize me in your arms
because I know you know
I’m kind and wouldn’t crush you
in my embrace
and neither will you prick me
because you are not the rose bush
but the flower who in many colors
loves me when you
arise in a divinity
we can share
in our garden.
— Douglas Gilbert
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