The moon cracks op’n her egg-white shell

Night breaks, and brother Day

Spills yolky morning sunrise all

Along horizon’s bounds

 

The sky floods countless untold hues

– A shattered lava lamp,

Ink spilled across a dawning page;

Night’s cloak of black erased.

 

Now Uriel ascends his zenith steps

To claim his throne

And watch the world from up on high

Rays cast on those below

 

Oh son of the morning! New-ris’n,

Or is it Apollo?

Within his burnished chariot

He beats his silv’ry twin

 

Who seeks a darker haunt to house

Her maiden’s twilit hunt

In shadows they remain for now

Till moonrise strikes Day down.

 

Day shakes off drops of moonstone dew

That his obverse employs

To lull the world to sleep come dusk,

The op’ning of his eyes

 

Is like the striking of a match;

Brings searing heat and light

Into night’s lonely-lamplight void,

Wakes earth from sleep’s embrace

 

Day paints sky’s realm cornflower blue

Hiding night’s stars from sight,

But deep in dusky Sylvan dells

Moon’s huntress bides her time.