I have always seen morning
as the promise of life.
A contemplative soulful moment
announcing the journey of day.
I find solace in each awakening
each subtle change it brings.
Now the chill air whispers
announcing a march of seasons.
Dew has bejeweled thirsty grass,
birds begin to arouse,
softly chirping a greeting,
a gentle breeze caresses the trees.
The dawn speaks the name of Sol
it is the given blessing of Gaia.
This magical moment her promise,
binding of all creatures,
the earth, the air, the oceans.
With the light she strides creation,
a soft footfall upon the earth,
we become one with the cosmos,
and, the glorious spirit of existence.
©2011, Donald Harbour
Donald Harbour Poetry 
As I said below your comment; you, sir, are one hell of a poet. As generous as you were with your praise, I’m nowhere near here.
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