Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
But the tears of mournful eve!
- Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Youth and Age
Dew-drops, Nature's tears, which she
Sheds in her own breast for the fair which die.
The sun insists on gladness; but at night,
When he is gone, poor Nature loves to weep.
- Philip James Bailey
Looking out on this beautiful morning
Head full of childhood memories
One special memory in particular
I recall is that of wet grass
I didn't know then
But I know now
My siblings and myself would rise early
In the morning
Eager to go outside to play
We would ask my mother
If we could go outside to play
She would always say,
"The grass is still wet"
She then would say,
"Wait until the grass dries"
Little did I know then
That the grass was wet with morning dew
I later learned that morning dew was nature's tears
