The Sacred Hour

Under the cover of darkness
a symphony of snoring souls
rest their aching bodies
on a single row of bunk beds 

An old Spanish bell tower
glows high above
A supreme witness of the pilgrims
for centuries past 

The road is wide open
ready to be taken
I slip onto the dirt path
joined only by a light drizzle
from the skies above 

The most sacred hour
of the day --
a gap between
the darkness and the daylight
Only prayer seems appropriate 

Even the green hills stand still in awe
And the birds line up on the trees
to witness the miracle
of another birth
of another sunrise 

Feeling like the only
person in the world
I savor every moment
knowing it happens
only -- once a day.