Waking up
early can be sublime.
Without
needing sleeping bag, backpack or food,
You summit
highest mountains.
You see
light born brilliantly on each leaf,
All trees
born again in the rays,
The quiet of
a scene that will turn riotous,
Hearing
prophecy from birds of an awakening world.
The
stillness allows you to see that you unfold
Into being
by early sun too, a slow awareness
That alarms
protest. The morning air is so cold;
Even the hottest of days rolls out gradually.
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