Did you hear the tiny tinkling sounds of dawn so gently breaking?
A single ray found its way into my room, intent on staying.
Soon all of nature's daylight sounds will ripen for the taking;
Tunes of the wind in the trees and in the high wires playing....
I can hear the high pitched short chirping of the chickadees,
Waking with a song swelling from their tiny beating hearts.
Soon the mockingbirds will be alighting in the sycamore trees,
Adding their orchestral tunes, playful songs and sharp retorts...
Slowly the misty morning lifts its foggy veil, flinging it aside
In swirling wisps amid a scattering of leaves upon the ground.
Suddenly the sun appears full force at the day's morning side,
Fog and mist disappearing from the scene without a sound...
What is it the sun charges the day for this glorious display?
Is it truly free to all creatures, to all features of this earth?
I know, speaking for myself, I would hand forth all I could pay,
Although I could never come close to offering what it is worth
~
