This morning the dawn rose.

This morning the dawn rose.

I heard it coming before it came.

The birds started their singing, first slowly one by one,

and, then in multitudes

praising the glory of a new born day.

This morning the dawn rose.

I saw it coming before it came.

The trees began to come alive,

showing their shape,

as the first light illuminated their branches.

This morning the dawn rose.

I smelt it before it came.

The green grass coming alive,

the trees opening their buds,

the fragrant flowers releasing their perfume.

This morning the dawn rose.

And, the peace of a new born day

settled into my soul.

I could not help but be overjoyed.

 

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The dawn rising over Chelsea, VT this past winter.  There is nothing as sacred as witnessing the first light coming into the sky and seeing the world awake from its precious slumber.  This past weekend, I was able to witness that first hand during my 2 a.m. run on the Cape.  It was one of the holiest of moments for me.

 

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