WINDMILL AT DAWN

As the windmill greets dawn,

Its sails utter no sound.

The wind stirs no movement,

Rising shyly from the ground.

- - - - - -

There on its white-washed face,

First light shines down its grace.

A bird feather floats by with ease,

By the brush of a gentle breeze.

- - - - - -

The windmill now shudders, groans,

The sail catches the wind, moans.

Stirred by the breath of the wind,

Whose force it will never rescind.

- - - - - -

Witnessing there for many years,

In early dawn, as the day clears.

True promise of peace that will be,

True vision of a future in serenity.

- - - - - -

(c) John Herlihy November 2018