Mystic Mornings

The morning mist, a shroud of light,

Whispers secrets of the dawn.

Through trees tall and ancient bright,

Life's first breath is gently drawn.

The dew-kissed grass, a jeweled green,

Cradles stories held within,

Of nights that passed and days unseen,

Where dreams and hopes anew begin.

In the silence, softly breaks,

A bird's sweet song, a hymn of love.

Through twilight’s veil, the world awakes,

Awash in glow from skies above.

Mountains guard the slumbering Earth,

Rising tall, with steadfast grace.

Each peak a testament to rebirth,

In morning's tender, warm embrace.

As sunlight pours through canopies,

A golden dance on forest floor,

We find in this day's new reprise,

The whispered call to dream once more.