Think how each thread—
gold, mint, and turquoise—
slim and impermanent—
contributes to the pageantry.

Think how the sun,
source of all that beauty,
draws all to itself as it rises.

At its greatest height,
the sun’s light becomes transparent:
even shadows disappear.

Then, holding all in suspense,
the sun’s threads
unwind at night,
like a bobbin.

With nightfall,
moon’s piercing light
borrows sun’s radiant splendor,
sun’s myriad colors
transformed to a commanding white.

Each morning
think how the sun also rises,
banishing darkness.

Think:
without those threads of pink
and wisps of violet,
morning would be threadbare.