Time

As dawn begins to glow, everyday a performance, every moment a show. With ink pen in hand the ink starts to flow. Awakened by Epiphany the daughter of Poetry. Her whisper of inspiration brings pen and pad to mind. And I, have time. Early in the morning, under the nighttime skies, I'm there to see the sunrise. There, as morning glories creep. I'm there, as crickets go to sleep. Before the darkness says goodnight. Before the first rays of sunlight, I... Have time. Before the long hot days of sun rays on sundays, moving like a birds morning song. The daughter of Poetry Epiphany is gone, and I... Have time.