‘The Morning’s Crest’ by Stephen Ramsek

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The Morning’s Crest

The morning’s crest is in its youth,
The dawn has yet to lose a tooth,
The virgin firmament is dark,
The sun’s no more than a tired spark
Transcended by the cold, brash moon.
But then the leaves foretell the noon,
Aglow with some prophetic light;
They say the sun is just in sight,
And as the night’s parade moves on,
The day will boldly spring upon
The black horizon, burning, fierce;
The dark will make the dew its hearse,
The white-ringed sun will take its throne
Amongst the skies’ blue halls, alone
In rule, supreme in power, full of life,
And he will take me as his wife,
And we will marry while we feast.
He’s waiting for me in the east.

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Stephen Ramsek is a freshman at Bob Jones University in South Carolina.