Every Moment Poem by Paul Reed

The first fingertips of the sun
Gently knead our temples
And find their way between blades of grass,
Hide in the hedgerow
And dazzle the morning;

Our re-awakening,
Our rebirth from the dead,
When, with sightless eyes
We lay in submission
In the tomb of night;

But we have been given another chance
To hear the birds,
To taste the air,
To feel the vibrancy,
To dance and sing
At the top of our voices;

Let every second count
Every moment be relished
Joy and happiness have their way
Under blue skies
Before nightfall comes again.