The orange glow seeps through the needles of the pine tree
early morning light dances on the thin green leaves —I observe from my seat
in the open air turret, built with eight sides and a view of the rolling hills below
and the mist collecting on the top of the forest
the intricate movement on the branches transfixes me, I am in awe
of the blazing shimmer that starts the day
to stay there, viewing how the dawn light trickles through the dense foliage of the trees
noting how each piece gets to shine, gets to glow, even for just a few minutes
before the light shifts as the sun continues its ascent
perhaps I too, can be a light, a glowing ember to light the way
the sagacious bee 