Dawn's Morn
Dawn’s Morn
She burns of
scorching Reds and Oranges,
Set on fire as
She rises early every morn,
From pitch
black to morningious colors,
She rises from
the morn’s yet still valley,
Showing Her presence,
melting the cold dew of the night air,
Breaking the ice
of Winter’s vast rays of light,
Rising from the bellows
of the essence of dear womanhood,
Bringing new life,
seeing in the day Her old self,
She brings hope to all,
She is fire and She brings change,
Wake up, Wake up,
the sunrise has unwillingly called,
She is dawn in
the Golden Hour of the morn,
Dawn is here, after
the long, long past dark night.
Travis “Ceijaeh” Klein
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