A silver songbird calls quietly,
Shaking a vivid dream into listless reality.
My hair dances gracefully across my brow,
Like the trace fingertips of a lover in the night.
The rooftop tar shimmers in the growing dawn.
As I breath deep the coming day,
Fitiful, restless nights are forgotten.
As the crisp cool breeze quenches,
the fires of my inner demons.
Bright morning reaches my eyes,
My heart swells as the beauty of
The great new creation
Reminds me of Her
And though the wind is strong
Nothing can still the fires of my heart.