A custom sun
graffitied with the
low pink scrawl
of waking
burns orange with hope
rising and stretching like
the landlocked siren singing
over sighing plains
where ewupniaq,
calming storms of
plant calligraphy hold
pollinator epistemologies
in the brush of wing
and scale to leaf: in
cobalt aurashine
light pemtaqaiet
slithers around like a snake
with the buzzing of ancient
promises, of maps,
danced into nests
and built bright yellow
over all of the land,
the churning magma
of rebirth—
When night breaks open
and pours forth morning
the people breathe
the breathless wisdom
that lurks in the codes of
roses—wasuegl,
they bloom, flower—
and they stand, seeing,
as if for the first
time, the
boundless voice
of the soul.
(Editors’ Note: “Dawning” is read by Matt Peters on the Uncanny Magazine Podcast, Episode 51A.)
© 2023 Tiffany Morris
