Hopi Sunrise


The plateaus are dark

They stretch from left to right across the world

They march up to me with layered cadences

The sky cannot be described, but I will try

I want to make a record of this morning that is awakening before me

How many more will I be blessed to see….

We never really know do we?

So wait and watch for each one….

Make a note……

This is a limited portrait that my mortal vision can feebly absorb


I didn’t know that the sun liked pink blankets trimmed in gold

I was not surprised though, I know he is partial to all kinds of blue.

I stand on a small spot of earth, waiting to see his face

My breath is slow and foggy……My hands are toasty in my coat as I wait….

I can see him coming.


The sun peaks over my horizon with a bright eye as he raises his sleepy head

 He rolls back his blankets of pink and gold, and I’m a little taken aback to see that there is a splash of purple lace hovering just below his face.

But I like the colors, and I nod to him in appreciation and awe.


He’s taking a little longer to wake up this morning than I’d like

I wish he’d hurry up and share some of his blankets with me

I can see that the plateaus and mountains are the first to receive his morning kisses and I feel no jealousy toward them….

They have been here a lot longer than me and have seen the sun in his many moods.

Sometimes they might not see him for days, when he’s hiding behind the sky

Maybe he’s a little down or just a little shy.

They still sit there though for millions of years and wait for him, knowing he will be back.

Not possessive in the least of what little sun kisses I steal from them

I am just a flower to them across their myriads of time

Blooming for a short season, out of sight and out of mind


I can see the edges of the light blankets frills creeping up to my feet

I take a step forward….Impatient to meet my friends touch.

To cuddle under the warm caress of rays that were born way before my time.


The lights fingers crawl up my body and I can feel the change

Like strolling through warm water or standing on the edge of a cliff

That tingling feeling you get in your knees, a butterfly in my gut.


My Sun is up, my breakfast is blue, My gold green earth has been born anew.


I raise my face to the sun, the plateaus and the sky.

A chilly tear with a hint of pink and gold trim caress my thankful eye.

15 thoughts on “Hopi Sunrise”

  1. Your *BEAUTIFUL* description made me feel as though I was their watching the morning come to life! You have such a way with “Words” my *Sweet* friend. I wish you and your family a Very * HAPPY & HEALTHY NEW YEAR!! *ONE LUV=Unity* *Catherine* XoXo 🙂

  2. I read this fast the first time, then read it again slower. I could tell it was a piece which needed attention and visual aid. Oh how beautiful a picture you paint.
    You are truly gifted, Trey. I hope you know that.

    Peace & Love

    1. You are truly gifted in recognizing gifted…LOL!

      I think that since you are my biggest fan that you are becoming biased.

      Now I have to start an erotica page and bring you back to reality, since I get easily embarrassed and I’m a prude, it should be completely inane.


      1. Ok, got say it here…hate the whole muwahahaha thing. I have never liked anyone whole laughed like that in reality, and hate it even more reading it. But…I love you still.

        I am not biased, as I do not tell many others they are truly gifted. Do you remember when we were younger and children who were what are now considered ‘special’ or ‘learning challenged’ were considered ‘gifted’? I remembered this the other day while reading some FB crap. I thought of a student from elementary school who was taken to another class because he was ‘gifted’, yet he was what my mum considered mongoloid at the time. I am not even sure of the correct terms for all of that now. So, I want you to take the compliment of ‘gifted’ in the right manner.
        You have a special talent for writing. You can put your heart, life, and daily musings in writing with ease and with life. That is it! You have life in your postings: sad sometimes, but most of the time happy and fun.

      2. Yeah, they always took the gifted kids to other places….like a quarantine area of sorts. Hmmmm, “Village of the Damned” circa 1960 perhaps

      3. So you remember it being this way as well? Well, no wonder our generation is so confused: we don’t know what the hell ‘gifted’ really means. If we are called that, we immediately want to kick some serious ass. No wonder there are so many new diagnosis in the DSM now, we are the generation who invented them.

      4. “What in the hell is wrong with you!?” my mother screamed.
        I had no idea, but I didn’t want to disappoint her so I invented ADHD so she could tell her friends that it wasn’t her fault I was the way I was….it was chemical.

      5. Funny, my mother screamed that most of my life. Perhaps we are all from the same swampy gene pool. I told mum they hadn’t cleaned it in a while, and there was green stuff on the sides, but she didn’t care. She told me to go swimming and see what I could make of myself. Well…here I am. Oh what a wonderful job I have done.

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