Solstice Light

The pond
appears frozen
in the deep shadows
of pines
that stand
like sentinels
against the dark sky.

I play
the sun up
fingers stroke strings
one string at a time
as the sun touches
the tops
of the pines
and then bathes
the snow
in winter's
first light.

Two notes
paint new colors
and then three shine bright
before a full chorus
of crystals
brings forth
the new day
on this one morning
in a multitude
of mornings
each one a note
in the sound
of creation.

It is not
the sun rising
that is miraculous
each day,
but that
I am
Alive
in this sliver
of time
to watch
the first light
in this dance
on the ice.