So from the sodden Northwest here is the poem.
Skies glower grey with rain for days,
which dawn late, and nights creep in
too early. The year spins down and out
and we struggle against the brevity
of life and light.
Today, at last, clouds float like gauze
In front of the rising sun which reaches
Through with five fingers of silver
Light toward the frets of earth,
To pluck the notes of a Gloria in excelsis.
Linda Knowlton Appel