Dawn in the Valley
Cold mist rides low,
And soft, spring winds begin to blow.
Utter silence, save the creek,
Its rushing gray waters, seen from the banks, steep.
The first bird starts his song,
A beautiful sound, for which the earth has waited long.
Rising, falling, shrill notes fly
As he sings out his high, joyful song.
It cuts through the mist, then more birds start singing
Singing along to the beautiful song.
First one, then two, different kinds adding their own notes,
Till the whole forest echoes
Their perfect symphony.
The same song, yet ever changing.
Then, the sun shines trough
Prismatic drops, small drops of dew.
Flying forth a kaleidoscope, through misty air, a rainbow's hues.
Over the luscious, green forest floor.
Light slowly ventures into the shadowy forest
Lighting up flowers of white and blue.
The leaves all turn to face the sun
Waiting for it to lift the dew
From their tired bodies.
More animals start to stir,
Greeted by mist, rainbows and trees,
Painting the most beautiful picture anyone has seen.
Now the deer go to sleep,
Find a warm place to meet
Huddle up and wait for the night.
Owls all perch, as do the nightingale,
Waiting again, for the moonlight, pale,
Just as the whip-or-will waits,
Nestling, its body frail.
Waiting for the time it can sing again.
The sun now peaks over the lowest hill,
It will burn bright all day but start to set, and then.
Night will reign in my home once more.
But for now, as I gaze out my window at the blissful sight.
Dawn lies in the valley once again.