No Sunrise

The birds will not sing in the trees this day.

The bees will not buzz about, busying themselves with their work.

The flowers will not open and the dew will not sparkle like diamonds in the Web of the spider.

The rabbits will not emerge from their burrows to taste the sweet, wet morning grasses.

The lambs will not leap and play but instead curl into their mothers,

In this winter, within spring.

The sun will not rise this day, for the world knows you are gone.