Blown Glass
I drove once into a sunrise, crested
a mountain, each tree each twig each
twisted stalk, dry leaf and blade of grass
encased in burnished rain, glowing
pink absorbing rays rising above the horizon
a tunnel of rose light as if emanating from
within, unlike anything I’d ever seen—until today
awakening into a world, crystalized
a rainbow forest, each tree each twig each
twisted stalk, dry leaf and blade of grass
encased in burnished rain, shivering
strands, tiny jewels of light like looking out
from within an opal, imprinting the inside of
my eyelids, the afterimage of magnificence.