When days begin before the breaking dawn
A quiet darkness keeps the fear at bay
Awareness of one’s breath with waking yawn
Helps calmness to sustain the looming day.
Then brightness comes and blinds the shaded heart
Which wished to stay where dusk and dawn collide
For sun reveals its many broken parts
Which glimmer in the beams of morning light.
But night will come again and with it, rest,
As fragile souls seek solace in the dark
Survival of each day is truly blessed:
The nightingale depends upon the lark.
Sleep soundly, for the days will stead’ly pass
And troubled hearts will find their time at last.
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