There are days
When the morning sun
Feels as if
It has a beating pulse,

Spreading such warmth
By waking
Through these veins
Of scattered clouds

And gushing
God’s promise kept
Like that hope which
Bleeds from heaven

By radiance
Burning with prospects
Since tomorrow
Begins once more –

Where those skies
Keep shining light
Seeping in
Between my windows

Here for now
Soon gone forever
Once impossible
Yet so real,

Hearing hearts
Still beating steady
During hours
Truth seems brightest

Before darkness
Claims this cadence
Nature echoes
Between sleep.

• J. Pigno