Dawn

The dusk has come,
doubling the sun,
a fleeting, floating thing
that turns light into silence.
An entire night presides
in its cruelty and sweetness —
see how the creatures move
to break free from the mantle.

But morning hides in shadows,
awaiting throbbing echoes,
as trembling bodies find
a perfect dance for peace.
In the depth of the dawn
I find
weeds outlined like a melody mixed
with the fog around the hill,
as being there,
a symphony —
nature in a gathering of scars.

• Gabriela Mistral