The Coming of the Day

The pale ghost of the sun in clouded clothing patrols the morning sky
And I'm left wondering about the day
I walk out of the trees and fall into the bite of the wind
Spitting and snarling it claws at my dream
The clinging ground stalls my movement but it's a journey I must make
The horizon is dominated by the dark line of the tall trees
The wood that I've not yet walked yet I have seen
I've seen the sunlight darting from leaf to leaf
Teasing my eyes with it's momentary brilliance
Lighting the track in dancing shades, filling the air with warm promise of destiny
The animal bites again but I've glimpsed the goal
And I strike for the coming of the day