Morning walk begun in darkness. Even the sun's not awake.
Rabbits scurry away barely seen in the gray half light.
Slowly, light begins to dawn, hence the word, or vice versa, first to the east, gradually lightening the whole sky. Some reds, yellows, blues.
Shadowy things take shape and substance.
That's how life happens sometimes. Unsure of what we are seeing at first, until some sort of light, delineation, illuminates the scene, allowing us to make out details.
Despite claiming poethood, I don't like to get too mystical about these things. I've too many scars to base or balance myself entirely on sunrise and roses and rabbits in the dawn, but, I tend to forget they are there as I go about my daily obligations.
It's "nice", simple word, but useful, to reconnect with the momentarily unfamiliar familiar.
So many mornings of my life, I've watched the world's life renew itself, or, sadly, learned of someone or something NOT being renewed this day.
Cycle of life.
Sometimes we get in a rut and only see what we see, or think we see, day after day, and forget the other things.
That's one reason why I like morning walks.
I'm reminded that there's more to know about each day, than just the day-TO-day stuff we all deal with. I can start my day with news, or with rabbits scurrying away in the dewy grass as the sun begins to change the colors of the world from black and gray (grey for my Brit friends), to green and yellow and blue and red, and, waking up the sleeping birds, causes them to sing a drowsy good morning.
Just walking around in my mind, now that, with my help, of course, the sun's up.
Good morning.
Donovan Baldwin