Morning Poem by Durai Muhil

The moon fades away,
A blot on the clear skies,
Stars hide behind the cloaks,
Of clouds drifting gaily,
A red face staring into us,
Rises on the far eastern horizon,
The birds chirp announcing,
A new day that is to come,
Trees wave a welcome,
To the sun of universe,
He acknowledges those,
With a gentle wave of hand,
Bathed in a whiff of pure air,
And it is morning again.
The scavengers seek darkness,
Again behind the screened doors,
People walk with a lilt in their steps,
Resounding,
And it is a gay morning again.