photo #9407275

“The Keeper of Dawnlight” In the red heart of creation’s flame, a tiny spirit bears no name. Her wings, like prayer beads made of hue, beat songs the ancient rivers knew. Around her fall the eagle’s grace— white feathers drifting into space. They circle her, as if to guard the pulse of life, the spirit’s shard. She drinks from bloom where morning starts, each drop a dream from Mother’s heart. Within that nectar, bright and deep, the souls of ancestors still sleep. O hummingbird of sky and fire, you carry whispers, pure desire. The world may fade, the stars may fall— but your small song remembers all.