THE day unfolds like a lotus bloom, Pink at the tip and gold at the core, Rising up swiftly through waters of gloom That lave night's shore. Down bamboo-stalks the sunbeams slide, Darting like glittering elves at play, To the thin arched grass where crickets hide And sing all day. The old crows caw from the camphor boughs, They have builded there for a thousand years; Their nestlings stir in a huddled drowse To pipe shrill fears. A white fox creeps to his home in the hill, A small gray ape peers up at the sun; Crickets and sunbeams are quarrelling still; Day has begun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A PACIFIST FRIEND by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE FOUNTAIN (2) by SARA TEASDALE HELEN, THE SAD QUEEN by PAUL VALERY WINTER WITH THE GULF STREAM by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS ON LAYING THE CORNER-STONE OF THE BUNKER HILL MOMUMENT by JOHN PIERPONT OLD KING COLE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |