April Dawn

Quietly, ‘neath this silenced dawn,
I pause near edge of grassy dell,
as mists arise from dewy sleep
in whispered dreams they dare not tell.

Gently, April’s morning brings
a rumor to the waxing sun,
storied rich in daffodils
gracing paths were spring fawns run.

Unobserved, I stretch to hear
the whispers light upon the air,
feel the stir of life anew
as first beams spark the dew drops there.

In humble bows the mist relents
to grant the dawn its honored throne,
led by low and bowing arcs
between the hills, across the stones
that raise their heads from lea and rill
in peaking, see what life may fill
the wooded court where men do pause
to draw their peace, repent their flaws
before the quickened rising gold…
now bathing warm, my face to hold.

So held in God’s sweet kindness,
so granted strength to see the day,
so blessed in sacred service set
between the pine and hopes I pray.

Sentinels stand around me,
robed in fir, wrapped in sun,
guarding forest’s darker moods
from spilling to this courtyard won.

First birds call in echo,
through the giant’s highest boughs,
“Amen!” they sing across the dell,
embracing hope within the vows
spoken in this April dawn.