a gift of morning

morning’s not a song
to be sung
but a hum
as of a thousand bees
shifting green leaves
of sweet clover
beneath a new sun
it’s the quiet vibrations
of breathing
of keeping time
keeping time
keeping rhythm
and slow rhyme
with the waves
as they dust
the dreams
from the shore
it’s the soft celebration
of having the gift
of awaking
to see
to be
to breathe
with the winds
once more

© Sarah Whiteley


  1. O yes it is
    a gift
    and the way you painted it
    it is a caressing one.
    i actually feel like that more whenever i stay up the all night to see the night changing with the morning..



  2. i love it when you wake up and just “appreciate” the morning for all of how you’ve described it here. i imagine you woke up one morning and wrote this piece without even trying. kudos.



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