As boundaries blur
Each morn at dawn, we are reborn,
then tendencies come into play,
attachments which are not yet sawn,
within feeble form made of clay.
With ego cravings left behind,
each morn at dawn, we are reborn,
in warmth of heart, loving and kind,
regardless of how life rolls on.
Soul’s the canvas we write upon,
as the radiance of the sun;
each morn at dawn, we are reborn,
assured that soul and God are one.
Perched atop light of God’s moonbeam,
heeding the cosmic horn, love-lorn,
recognising life’s but a dream,
each morn at dawn, we are reborn.
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