Morning Dawn

This morning there was a dawning.
A realization,
Swift and brilliant,
Far fetched? I will see.

Routinely I wipe away those tears,
From the horrors of the dark night,
I rise from my bed,
feel the soothing wooden floor upon my shaking bare feet.

Grateful; I was awake now and all was safe.
Sparked, it turned to happiness as the morning sunlight,
Pierced its rays through my window,
Through the dismally patterned curtains.

I gaze longingly outside,
The golden, gently windswept fields of barley,
The blue waterfalls, neatly finishing off the twisting streams,
Trickle and sprinkle, amongst the green hills.

The dawning grows,
Vaster,
Greater,
Just like the pink sky now rising.

Hope,
Utmost intensified longing,
That one day,
I will be free of this fright.

Unmistakable the optimism was,
Its presence clear in the air,
Strong, like the scent of the sweet flowers,
Breezing through my now open window.

Hope, realization,
Dawning and rising of the sun,
Of me,
In mind and body.

One day I will walk these golden fields,
Admire those fresh blue streams,
Breath the scent of these trees and bark,
of sweet flower pollen.

Free entirely,
Hope replaced fear,
Free completely,
From the horrors of those dark nights.

One can always wish.

Maybe it is this before me
Something like hope,
And reassurance comes into focus,
As i think of all things warm and bright.

This warmth,
It has embers for eyes,
An Angel voice, to fill heaven itself,
That lights the very stars bright.


I wonder at the starlight,
That twinkles, ever so bright.