We are dawn every morning.
We are light facing day.
We are varying afternoons.
We are shadows that play.
The night contains dreams that enter my heart.
It is there that I journey with my daytime apart.
Yet deep within dreams, is the essence of now.
To awaken from dreams.
To rediscover,
Somehow.
As the morning begins us and day leads us in.
The rhythm and motion is a sought after whim.
Of pleasure, of moment,
Of magic or intrigue.
A sprinkle of seedlings that gather to be.
The length of our hours turning morning to night.
Within all these moments,
Such a beautiful sight.
