Morning
A new day, each day, once a day
Do we notice the new life
Springing out in early sunlight
Chilled dewdrops on the grass
Evaporating into morning air
Heavy with the scent of budding blooms
Do we sense it?
Or do we just pass by
Ignoring all
In the frantic pace of life?
Every day, a rebirth of sorts
A new chance to live
New opportunity
To gain, to seek out friends
To reunite with those we knew
Whom we seem to have forgotten
In our selfish isolation
Faces now changed
What should we do
With our brand new day?
Sitting beneath the old oak tree
I hear the songbirds sing
Their mystic coded language
I can never understand
I wonder if they see the morning
As replenished life
Or do they just flutter quickly
Through the air on wings
Passing by, ignoring,
In their frantic pace of life?
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