When Morning Breathes

A hush before the golden rise

The sky a canvas brushed in sighs.

Cool mist clings to the waking grass

As night exhales and shadows pass.

The wind holds still in reverence

As dawn ignites with soft suspense

A bird, unsure, begins to sing

Its trembling note stirs everything

Leaves shimmer with unspoken grace

Sunlight sketches each hidden face

A fox retreats, its hunt complete

While dewdrop hymns drip slow and sweet

Beyond the trees, the hills exhale

The world turns warm and lush and pale.

Petals stretch as light unfolds,

And colors bloom in quiet golds.

Insects buzz like sacred drums

Announcing that the morning comes.

Each breath of air, a gift unwrapped

Each blade of grass with sunrise tapped.

A heron glides with wings so wide

Skimming across the water's pride.

Its cry a call through vapored sky

To greet the sun now climbing high.

The earth begins its gentle spin

As sunlight melts the dark within.

River’s glisten, trees extend

And silent stars begin to end.

The breeze returns with whispered tone

Like lullabies the night has known.

It carries scent of pine and dew

And scatters dream the dark once grew.

A rabbit stirs from burrowed bed

Lifts twitching ears and cautious head.

The forest hums with waking life

Released from cold, from hush, from strife.

We often sleep through nature’s prayer

Unknowing of the glory there.

But those who wake and lift their gaze

Will find new hope in morning’s blaze.

For in that moment, pure and brief

The world forgets its pain and grief.

And those who rise with morning’s light

May find their hearts renewed in flight.

So, if you hear the dawn’s soft call

Let not your morning senses stall.

Step out, breathe deep, and gently see

How morning gives the soul its key.