737. Dallan Poem by Jaden Knight

Dallan limps slowly through the temple before dawn
when everyone else is in bed asleep
the only sounds that can be heard are holy fires by the doorways
and the tapping of his ebony staff on the marble floor

His red robe is patched and faded
a shadow of its former glory
his long white hair hangs down his back
the same colour as his sightless eyes

He goes to the entrance every day at this time
to watch the sun rise up from behind the hills
bathing him in its light and warmth
as he offers a prayer of thanks

The birds are singing good morning to the ancient priest
as he reaches his usual spot for his first offering of the day
his mind's eye can perceive the first shining rays
as like the light a smile of joy spreads across his face