Son. Yawning, breathing, patient dawn overcomes inattentive stillness of night waxed old and feeble... pewter moon, enquiring, vigilant owl, broken-hearted loon. Unintelligible, manic chatter lulled to restful sleep, fully confident, uncaring beneath their Bright and Morning Star upholding all things securely in Divine fiat; express image of everlasting glory, Huios, their Logos, the very face of God. 2009 Stephen F. Ashford
The Edge. Light diffuses. Diminishing nocturnal chords - never usurped by irrepressible day - linger. Concerted, mutli-nuanced shrills - sighs, as it were - yet singular, inconsolable, grieving, holy. 2011 Stephen F. Ashford