Whispers of Dawn

Beneath the veil of morning’s haze,

A brook meanders, humbly plays.

Its voice, a hymn both soft and clear,

Speaks truths that only hearts can hear.

The forest wakes with quiet breath,

A thousand lives escape from death.

Each leaf, each branch, a world unseen,

A fleeting pulse in endless green.

The towering oaks, in gold arrayed,

Bear witness to the light’s cascade.

Their roots, deep veins of earthen lore,

Bind sky to soil forevermore.

A dove descends to greet the morn,

Its feathers pale as budding dawn.

In stillness, it becomes a prayer,

A moment’s grace beyond compare.

The wildflowers, in softest bloom,

Exhale their fragrances, consume

The fleeting night, as petals flare,

A tapestry beyond repair.

The fireflies blink their final glow,

A quiet fading, slow and low.

Yet in their dusk, a promise sings:

New stars will rise, new light it brings.

Here in this hallowed, tranquil glade,

Where shadow meets the sunlit blade,

The world expands, the heart takes flight,

And whispers echo through the light.