Gods face is revealed,

as dawn comes to the pond.

All last night, noises came, as hints.

A hungry screech owl, hunting

and the scream of the hare, too slow.

The frogs and peepers in oratorio.

A grumbling something…

the black bear scouring the compost heap, perhaps?

The nights soft breeze

brushing through early Autumn leaves.

Then a flicker of light,

a quick blink, like a wink

catching the last dying ember of the camp fire.

Then rises the mist off the cool pond,

warmer now than the morning air.

And the warble of the first loon to wake

and the mallard, calling her drake.

Then the soft outline of darker water

against the lightening forest beyond

and the first glimmer of sunrise,

not quite yet above the surrounding hills.

And now, sparkling in the tree tops,

birch, long needle pines, so tall there,

still damp from late nights shower

reflecting suns rays,

diamonds in the air.

And then a shimmering on the pond

caught in a ripple of some leaping bass splash,

dragon fly impaled in his jaws,

Sky takes on its dawn blue hue.

Then, the miracle.

The worlds dark night turns to light

and in the coalescing day,

in but a moment!

There!

Revealed!

The smiling face of God,