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In the early morning coolness, floats the low-lying mist
Hanging like a fragile blanket over the water
Shielding the ground as if to protect the living
From being awakened too soon by the changing light

The sun, too, is waking in this part of the world
All have been asleep since it slid to the other side
Now, on its return, does day begin to break so gently

No strong breezes, no loud noises, nor any movement
All and everything seems to be suspended in the mist
Apart of the echoes of water splash, bird chirp
The marsh is holding its breath and waiting on the sun

No creatures stir, for they, too are waiting
For that blessed warmth that stops the chill in their bones
Soft and long, the mist does the breathing for all
Soon, at sun herald of the day, the marsh will breathe on its own

The sky begins to take on pale colors, most lovely pastels
I cannot imagine anything more ethereally lovely
With abandon, nature combines and shows off its colors
I could not stand to live in a black and white world

Now there is a sound from the earth and the sky
Almost like the softly played score at the beginning of a play
Leading up and up into the Heavens with notes of silver
Gold tinges the clouds as the sun begins to move

Beginning the ascent of the day so lovely and of velvet
Tiny, hesitant voices start to be heard, speaking morning
“Wake up, wake up...the sun is coming...wake up !”
Rise, O’ mist, to reveal the world in the marsh

Begin this day and take it to your heart with only joy
Know that you are blessed and give thanks...

Linda Vale Martin © January 26, 2010

By Moonchild

© 2010 Moonchild (All rights reserved)


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