Sunrise Sunset

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Sunrise Sunset

In the beginning God was a poet and he birthed the earth in rhyme; from sand silver sewed it, such that it turned in time to golden glass In a week or so he left it in the universe, alone, floating on a satin void crying as it shone in darkness. From emerald tears on solid black God took a sympathetic cue; He crushed the glass to then extract the words that from him flew He cast them in his fireplace, they writhed in liberating pain, until at last of golden verse but one word did remain, And the word was phoenix, And from it grew in lightning and in flame A universe of suns and moons, of thunder and of rain. Now every d