I have an odd tendency to wake in the wee hours of the morning, regardless of what time I go to bed. I find I greatly enjoy the solitude of this time and somehow do my best thinking then.
In the still of pre-dawn darkness
the morning shares her secrets.
Snippets of wisdom,
drift effortlessly through silent air.
Alone and awestruck, I listen
as she reveals her pearls.
Calmly and clearly,
Divinely delivered just for me.
I drink from her cup of knowledge
As she reveals her pearls
And somehow, slowly
As the sun begins to rise
I recognize morning’s voice as mine.