The first light touches the edge of night,
A fragile glow, a soft breath of bright.
The world is still, as if it knows
The secret in the dawn that softly grows.

Eyes that once were heavy with sleep,
Now flutter open from shadows deep.
A heart that wandered, lost and worn,
Feels the stirring of something reborn.

The air is filled with the scent of change,
Like rain that falls and starts to rearrange
The dust, the dirt, the broken past,
All mended slowly, made to last.

It’s not just the sun that rises high,
But something deeper, beyond the sky—
A soul that learns to spread its wings,
To trust the wind, to feel what freedom brings.

An awakening not of sight or sound,
But a stirring in places once unfound.
A quiet knowing, soft and true,
That life begins again, in all things new.

So let it come, this waking dream,
Like morning light on a silent stream.
For in the pause, before the day,
Is the grace of knowing how to pray.