Morning’s Breath

In dawn’s quiet grace, I stand alone,

The world’s soft breath entwined with mine.

Each leaf stirs gently, dreams unknown,

Held in a spell, a green design.

A shiver runs through bending trees,

As sun-touched branches meet the sky—

They sway like songs on ancient seas,

Guided by something pure, awry.

Yet then—a shift, a spark within,

A pulse beyond what eyes can see.

The breeze, it curls beneath my skin,

Unfurling worlds I’ve yet to be.

Each gust, a whisper of what’s true,

A fleeting glimpse of all that’s new.