Day-Break

Clouds no longer darken the horizon

Thunder is now only a faint rumble

     in the distance

There is a diminishing drip in the downpipe

     and the grass rejoices in its fresh wetness

Crickets struggle to find their voice.

All is still

The air, washed, clean clear

     magnifies the stars into my presence

And in the morning

As the Currawongs warble fanfare to the rising sun

Until the hills receive its dying flame

I will see nothing but blue skies

and white clouds

I will sleep tonight

with a mind at rest