Morning

Sometimes I like to steal away to see the day begin;

To feel the early sunlight and the fresh air on my skin.

I like to breathe the breath of dawn, and taste the world anew,

And see the sunbeams strike the grass, aflash with diamond dew.

It’s special in the morning, like a moment caught in time;

The stillness reigns with quiet grace, an interlude sublime.

I watch the light take over as the darkness melts away;

For now it is that breathless time between the night and day.

There is no morning rush, but like a flower bud unfurled,

Nature opens up its eyes to greet the brightening world.

The little creatures start to stir, the birds wake with a song,

And here I’ll seek their Maker’s face, before the day grows long.