A Haleakala Sunrise

There was nothing but whispers of fog
before dawn kissed the mountain’s face
and a silent frost of breath where craters rested
The sun applied a delicate blush on the fading vapors
to reveal an alien land with crimson and copper sand
A place once filled with vigorous rage
to birth a divergent tropical paradise
One must delicately
take nothing but photographs
leave nothing but footprints
to preserve the silence of this sleeping volcano