Gentle is the morning light

Golden morning sunlight pours through black window lace.

The world seems silent,
Bright and serene.
Nothing stirs.

In this quiet moment,
Anything seems possible.

Tired eyes and a weary mind
Awaken from long slumber.

Gentle is the morning,
Not yet revealing the day’s secrets.

Outside the window,
A handful of sparrows appear,
Their frantic chirping briefly filling the air
Before silence returns once more.

The warm spring sun
Turns the leaves to radiant shades of green,
While morning dew vanishes
From tidy lawns and blooming flowers.

The world beyond the glass
Feels renewed,
As though every anxiety of yesterday
Has been washed away with the night.

Then the hiss of a passing car
Cuts through the stillness,
Ending peaceful contemplation.

And as the sun climbs beyond the window frame,
This blue-skied Sunday
Can finally begin.