Before it all begins as I lay wondering
Like gray smoke, the haze
of twilight dawn drifts away,
making way for a new day
before first birds sing,
at the final moments
of the darkest hour--
gently it all wakes into
frenetic, bustling
activity of lives living life.
Does the cool morning air
know it will warm like
bathwater to my skin?
Can the sun guess what
it will shine light on
through this just now waking day?
of twilight dawn drifts away,
making way for a new day
before first birds sing,
at the final moments
of the darkest hour--
gently it all wakes into
frenetic, bustling
activity of lives living life.
Does the cool morning air
know it will warm like
bathwater to my skin?
Can the sun guess what
it will shine light on
through this just now waking day?
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