Morning
The light is slowly unfolding
its pristine halo,
The symphonic dance of its golden
wings,
The euphoria of its long journey's
end,
Its silent scintillating sweep
melts the morning mist with osmotic embrace,
The morning has staged a tranquil
coup d'etat on the dying sovereignty of
the night.
It has gathered supine strength
in the wake of its hesitant beginnings,
In rapid steep of time,
Maturing into bold, focused,
yet measured power,
Morning has taken hold and begun
its ephemeral reign.
The magic of its light has covered
everything into pregnant quietness,
Spawning a billion hopes,
The possibility of possibilities,
An array of brilliant dreams,
A new clean life with unburdened
past.
Morning is a new beginning,
With eternity at its wingtips,
An invitation for unbounded
journey
To a knowingly unknown end,
Where traveling is more rewarding
than the arrival.
Morning has the courage to break
open,
Everything else it does is less
important.