Transformation (Poetry)

In dawn’s grainy light
the day appears grey as an unmapped mountain
looming out of the mist
routine is the crossing of rugged foothills
wearisome in its plodding progress
while a far-off sun struggles
to find a chink in damp-heavy curtains

This day augurs nothing special
just another in the line tethered mulish
and following out of habit — barely goaded
except by duty and the old ingrained idea
of moving on — the journey must somehow be served

The pace eases to a working rhythm
a metronome the slavish spirit harkens to
and sings silent a brave overture to future hours
pressing onwards — ever onwards to some summit
the myth proclaims the goal but eyes have never seen

Then suddenly the sun unveils what gloom has so-far hidden
welcome as a stranger’s unsure smile
warmed memory unfolds a perfect flower
pure gold against a landscape carved in stone
where such joy is caught in unexpected moments
a valley opens wide — the view’s serene
                                        the day transformed