Dawn of Hope

Dark and silent mounds above the misty river's veil
starring at stars that fall in glittering vanishing trails.
The ebony cloak of a fleeting time,
the indigo sky, a spectral pantomime.
The roar of the river joins the calls of the trees
that whisper in secrets told upon the breeze.
The regal deer lift their heads from their drink,
deeper into their nests the sleepy birds sink,
nocturnal critters scamper on tiny chilled feet,
these are the metranomes of Life's eternal beat.
As the sky blushes in its pink and yellow haze,
over the mountains the sun peaks in morning's first rays.
The waters sparkle awakened by the light
and the heavens turn blue swallowing the night.
The bells in the birds throats begin to ring
waking the world with the songs that they sing.
The green grass is refreshed and bright with dew
and the world smells sweet, fresh, and new.
Yet, this moment seems frozen as time ticks away.
No longer is it night, yet to early to be day.
The new slate is clean and presented for display
for Life to write a new chapter in a never-ending play.
Promise is abundant, as Hope is a platform for dreams
that must be built upon as initiative deems.
Silent serenity in a natural world yeilding
to the hand of man for mankind's wielding.
May the day bring surprises to great for the guessing
and may it be received as the truest great blessing.