The Awakening Poem by David McLansky

Birds before the rising dawn,
Twitter out their noisy song,
Even when the dark of night
Maintains its mantle o'er the light;
The hints of grey that clouds the East
Heralds the morning as a feast:
Bits of fruits and crumbs of breads
Wets the tongue to what's ahead;
So rising in the early morn,
I see the breathing of your form,
The gentle heaving of your breast
Augurs the joy of what comes next:
The sweet awakening of your spirit
That I, a dolt, do hardlly merit;
So I compose this tuneless lay
To welcome the gift you bring each day.