These Rays, Of Sun

As luck has it,
so do the wolves
and they whine for
the winter all night.

As fever sets,
the wind still gets
hotter with each
moment of plight.

And bigger, we grow;
know that the yearn is
both mild and wild
in every turn.

As both hands raise
and praise the dawn,
the light burns soft
skin and the birds take their noble flight.

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