First light is not seen
By many these days
Either they're still asleep
Covers over thier head or
On the train or
In cars with all their lights on
Or already
In imporant meetings
Then there are buildings
In the way with other lights on
So it is hard to tell
When dawn first breaks
For those out walking or
Sitting on a bench overlooking the lake
It is a sight that restores
The wonder you had as a child
Makes you believe that you can help
Make it right in this world
For some it's only at this time
With dawn just coming up
Before it gets too bright
And the rest of the town
Is awake going
Their separate ways
In daylight there are winners and losers
People keep score
The light gets brighter
People more intense
And then it is dark again
First light allows us to understand our place in the universe a little bit more. I can't understand why people don't occasionally 'stop and smell the roses'. I like to watch the birds in the back garden having a bath after rainfall.
Yes thus is life of all beautiful things To rise and come or never to be seen From the light of the past where it has been Then it comes with its colorful strings Being there like the daybreak's first morning bliss To give to memory something to tell A blossoming day in its first made kiss To make the night before gotten in its spell Wonderful day overlooking the lake With something new in the rising hour For us to see again as the little child Memories those in beauty are awake Daylight that gets brighter to empower Easy going day in silences so mild
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is probably a word to describe this phenomenon but I can’t think what it is. Sometimes you can see more when there is less to look at and hear more when there is less noise.