Day, dawn,
sunlight, yawn.
Day, dawn, no time to mourn,
for the blackness of night has passed,
and the stars and the moon have gone quickly away,
quickly away at last,
and here I am, awake,
with my thoughts rising as if the streams and the rivers,
the streams and the rivers that flow so gently,
that flow so rapidly at their own pace quickly past.
And in the rapidity, and in the gentility, I am happy,
happy with my eyes adjusting to the light,
happy to see the day,
happy to have been comforted and rejuvenated by the night,
and happy,
happy in the light,
happy to be dazzled by the sun streaming through the windows,
happy to feel its warmth upon my face,
happy opening the windows,
and feeling the fresh air coming through,
happy to hear the quiet solitude of an empty village street,
happy to hear the birds singing,
happy being nourished by the sun,
happy with the breakfast that I eat,
happy with my coffee,
happy with the thought of the possibilities that may be,
happy to be alive, happy to be me.
