Grosbeak

I felt the cold rain before the approaching sun.
The chilly respite caused me pause,
contemplation of its icy staccato.

There is light and warmth unblemished
outside the trance of this nightly nadir.
Shivering, I beckon the acquiescence.

The mist dissipates into the twilight.
The scene transmutes into ocher folds,
sandstone spires stand sentinel in the sun.

The fluttering flight of a grosbeak breaks the horizon.
Untouched by eons, it relents to instinct,
throaty song a harbinger of my rebirth.