THE RISING

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In the pristine morning, there is more exuberance

In the part of me that peeks through the eyes

Heralding new dreams garnished with flamboyance.

 

In the pristine morning, there is more love

Yearning to leap in the silent crackle of light

Emancipating hopes with blessing from above.

 

In the pristine morning, there is profound amiableness

That resonates within, finding a way to express undaunted vigor

Quelling hatred and abhorrence, spreading only joy and happiness.

 

In the pristine morning, there is light

With nascent rays of sun, kiss the plants

Returning their virescent hues, Ohโ€ฆ so bright.

 

In the pristine morning, there is mellifluous chirping of birds

Caressing umpteen melancholic souls

Muttering unvoiced emotions sans any words.

 

In the pristine morning, there are first sounds nibbling at the edge of stillness

Shoving away the darkness, amalgamating optimism and certitude

Instilling love and peace, inducing forgiveness.

 

In the pristine morning, there is calmness at display

Embracing vibrancy, cheerfulness and newness

A gift of freshness bequeathed anew each day!

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