I woke up to see on Sunday morning
a day made bright and pure.
I held my daughter in my arms
and softly walked up the hill.
We saw a poor patch of bush
which sunlight and shade had drawn.
We listened to the birds which called
in songs of joy and sorrow.
As silver clouds out sung the sun
and brought darkness to the earth.
We stood there silently to wait
the yellow warmth’s return.
A dog barked and my child
and time woke up again.
The sun shone clear blue in the sky
and a little bird cleaned his wings.