Member-only story
Whispers of the Dawn
A Hidden Awakening
Beneath the velvet sky’s embrace,
Where stars like scattered dreams find space,
The world sleeps deep, its heart at rest,
Yet whispers stir, a quiet guest.
The wind, a wanderer, hums its tune,
Dances lightly with the moon.
The trees sway softly, their branches sigh,
As if to greet the coming sky.
The dawn begins its shy ascent,
A painter’s hand, a hue well-spent.
Blush of pink, a golden thread,
Awakens earth from slumber’s bed.
Mountains bow to greet the light,
Rivers shimmer, reflecting bright.
Fields of green, with dewdrops crowned,
Hum a tune of life unbound.
In every leaf, a secret told,
Of ancient earth, both young and old.
In every bird’s first morning cry,
A song of hope, a question: why?
Why does the dawn so gently break?
Why does the heart with longing ache?
For every light, a shadow cast,
For every future, a fleeting past.
