Without having even opened,
my tired little eyes,
it was so clear to me:

This frozen ground,
frosted trees, && darkened skies,
yearn for tangerine drops of sunlight.

Patiently through the shadow of time,
does the dew wait for its prism,
&& as certain as the colors on the horizon,
line up, waiting to greet the day,
my heart, my grasp, will be empty,
&& gaze fixed upon a new found blue.