The Feast Day of Baha

On the Feast Day of Baha
the splendor of the New Year
rose resplendent above Sunrise Mount
casting the glory of dawn
across the planet.

In the first light of day
the excellence of spring
warmed the cold ground of winter
causing it to give birth
and bring forth
new life.


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God's New Day : To The Bab

Darkness conspires
to conceal the light of dawn
behind the charcoal clouds of hate.

Dawn comes
its light turns the clouds scarlet
and awakens the birds of morning.


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Judgment Day: A Description of Dawn

Prior to dawn
the darkness deepens,
as if gathering its strength
to fight the light.

Dawn comes
its rays of life
send darkness scurrying
and ting gray-white the morning sky.

Life's rays paint
the sky in shades of purple
streak the clouds
with pink and red.

The sun ascending
in silent glory
blinds the ravenous birds of night
and inspires the nightingale's song.

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Dawn in Las Vegas

Silence
Tranquility
Dawn breaks over Sunrise Mountain
Crowning its crest in glory

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Las Vegas Dawn

Bright rays ignite the blue sky,
transforming black velvet night:
stretching and yawning
the city's day shift wakes up.

I, also, posted this in the journal Writing in Snow,  under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio.  Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Saturday's Pigeons

Saturday morning
Pigeons coo supplicating
Warmth from dawn's first rays

 

I, also, posted this poem in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder  Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

Unsheathed Claws

Claws of dawn
penetrate day's closed eyelids
drawing the scarlet hue of morning.

 

I, also, posted this in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com port.

 

 

Winter Dawn

White wings reflect dawn
A dove flies past my window
Black velvet turns blue

I, also, posted this in the journal Writing in Snow, in the folder Awardicon Item, in my writing.com port. I am Prosperous Snow.

Voice of Dawn

Close your eyes and listen
to the voice of dawn
reverberating through the air of morning
proclaiming to all humanity
the Glory of God.

This poem is, also, posted in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com port. I am Prosperous Snow.

Wake Up Call

Wanting the sun's healing touch,
the pain
in my right knee
wakes me on cold mornings.

I get up,
see the face of morning
in the rising sun,
hear the voice of dawn
in Las Vegas' collective yawn,
and taste
the sun's warm kisses
in hot sips
of black coffee.

This poem is also posted in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com port. I am Prosperous Snow.

Creation Saturday: Three Views of Dawn

1

First light awakens
the glint of dew
on outstretched arms:
Saguaro sentinels,
silent witnesses
to the ever changing panorama
of life,
wave good morning
to flocks mourning doves.

2

Turning pink
with the splendor of a new day
dawn clouds
promise rain.

3

Pastel blues and reds
streak the clouds of morning
waking the poet's muse.

Late Autumn Dawn

Dawns light 

Penetrates my retinas 

Burns holes in my brain 

And releases the pressure that demands 

Another hour of sleep 

Red Skies: Memories of a December Dawn in Oklahoma

Rust colored mornings 

Eased the boredom of waking as 

Dawn scatted its joy. 

Sun caressed clouds, 

Kissed the firmament blue as 

I stepped onto the cold linoleum 

Expressing my gratitude and 

Singing light's praises. 

Looking Forward to Dawn

Fiḍál (Grace), 12 Mashíyyat (Will), 170 BE - Tuesday, October 8, 2013 about 6:26 AM Pacific Daylight Time

I am looking forward to dawn and carrying the trash out to the garage. All right, taking the trash out is no big deal, but I like the idea of walking in the sun. I enjoy standing in the driveway listening to the birds or watching the neighbor's oak tree lose its leaves. Most of the leaves on that tree are still green; however, some of them have begun falling to the ground.

As I look out my window, I can see the sky turning from deep black to blueish gray. I think we may have a cloud cover, but I cannot be sure until after dawn. Las Vegas in a valley and at first light I cannot be sure if there are clouds or the sky just looks cloudy because the sun is still behind Sunrise Mountain. Since I have not turned on television to watch the news or checked the weather.com, I do not know the forecast for today.

I am planning on staying home, so I do not care what the weather is like. It does not matter if it is cloudy or clear when I am working in the house. All though, I may have to go into the back yard to get the ladder. I noticed  yesterday, when I went onto the patio that the ladder was sitting on the west side of the yard next to a huge oleander bush. I need to put the ladder in the patio or the garage where I can get to it easily.

Friday morning inspiration

Istiqlál (Independence), 3 Núr (Light), 170 BE – Friday, June 7, 2013 about 6:55 AM Pacific Daylight Time

I looked out my window about dawn and watched the oak tree across the street. Dawn’s light appeared to transform the leaves from green to orange. It was a beautiful and inspiring sight on this Friday morning. Sights like that make me want to write haiku.

dawn’s beautiful light
turns green oak leaves to orange
summer is coming

This always happens, in the few weeks before summer. I will miss this sight when I move. I know I will find new inspiration for poems wherever I live. I know that, no matter where I find myself, I will find inspiration for haiku, but I will still miss the way dawn’s light turns the oak trees green leaves orange.

bright morning sunlight
casting dark tree shaped shadow
on neighborhood lawns

It is a beautiful morning in Las Vegas, the sky is cloudless and the sun is bright. This is a good day to find inspiration for all types of poetry. I like writing haiku because they are quick (sometimes) and short. I can write them and post them without worrying about syntax or grammar the way I do with prose.

The Dawn of another Day

‘Idál (Justice), 18 ‘Azamat (Grandeur), 166 BE – Wednesday, June 3, 2009 about 5:11 AM Pacific Time

It's the dawn of another day,
an early morning in June
the radio is playing,
the sky is transforming from midnight black
to dawn blue.

It's the dawn of another day
and I have a couch and love seat
sitting in my garage
waiting to come into the house
out of the Las Vegas heat.

It's the dawn of another day,
Wednesday
trash pick up day
and I'm listening for the garbage truck
to pass through my neighborhood.

Between Dusk and Dawn

Istiqlál (Independence), 17 Asma (Names), 165 B.E. – Friday, September 5, 2008 about 3:13 AM Pacific Time

It is early and the sun hasn't risen yet, but it approaches the horizon. You can sense the approach of morning, the approach of dawn. Even in the dusk of morning, in the dusk of the twilight before dawn, my mind and soul knows that day is coming. The knowledge of the approach of day wakes me in the dusk of morning.

I'm not sure when I first began waking up in the dark part of morning. All I know is that I'm now waking up before dawn and watching the sky become lighter and lighter between the dusk and the dawn. This is a spiritual time of day, when dawn prayers are said and the first pot of coffee is made. Prayers and coffee seem to complement the early morning and start the day off on the right foot.

This morning I noticed that when I get out of bed my right foot touches the floor first. Of course, I'm right handed, so that may have something to do with which foot touches the tile of my bedroom floor first. I don't get out of bed immediately upon waking. I lay a few minutes looking out the window, looking at the darkness before the dawn. Then, with my right foot touch the floor first, I sit up, find my socks and shoes, put them on and get up.

Waking up in the dusk of morning has taught me a lot about myself. I don't like to go barefoot, even in the house. Getting up early has also taught me that dawn is the most beautiful and spiritual time of day. Some may argue with that, but for me I find that it is true. I think that is because most mornings, I'm the only one up and the house is silent and conducive to prayer, meditation, making entries in my gratitude journal or composing a blog entry.

Another Solar Day is Done

10 Qawl 164 B.E. - Saturday, December 1, 2007 about 5:38 PM PST

Another solar day is done
the setting sun transformed the clouds
from white to fiery orange
which faded into starless night.

The chilled autumn day
became a damp fall night;
the days too short and the nights too long
are filled with prayers
and composing poems to the dawn.

Monday is Baha'u'llah's Birthday

6 Qudrat 164 B.E. - Friday, November 9, 2007

Monday is Baha'u'llah's Birthday. On Sunday evening after sunset a celebration of the event is planned for the Baha'i Center in Las Vegas. I'm not sure what is planned, but it ought to be fun. The celebration is held in the evening because the calendar followed by the Baha'is is a solar calendar. That means that the day begins at sunset on one day and ends at sunset on the next.

I've written a single stanza Octava Rima about commemorating Baha'u'llah's birth. I'm not sure yet if I'm going to add another stanza to it. I'd planned two stanza, but the second just wasn't working so I posted the first stanza in my port on writing.com. I'm in a poetry contest that gives forms of poems and then I write a poem following that form. The optional challenge was to take significant historical event and write about it.

The birth of Baha'u'llah was a significant historical even in my spiritual life and the spiritual life of many others across the planet. Baha'u'llah was born in the Persian province of Nur (light) at dawn on November 12, 1817.