This most beautiful morning
Stirs my heart

A lone black horse
Stands motionless
In a frost encrusted field
Waiting for the sun
To warm his body

The grasses and trees
Ice covered
Are waiting too

They are waiting
For the orange sun
To revive them
To free them
Of their crystalline encasements

My frozen heart
Is melting
At the beauty
Of Autumn

Brown, orange, red, straw

Everything stands still
On this early Saturday morning
Waiting for the thaw

Reminding us all
That we are small

And telling me
To offer my prayers

To the magnificent sun