Morning Path Poem by Elbert Matt Loubser

I walk a brisk path
in the morn' before the sun
in the chilled air and breeze
that carries my breath upon clowds

Every sense becomes filled
with the feeling of a new-born;
of new life and a freshness
only known after dark

The birds catch the first worm
and sing of it a heavenly sound
as they do with all their tasks,
we would do better to do the same

Dew-drops had made bed earlier
and chose the foilage to lie upon
covering life with life
waiting to reflect the sun

And then the horizon clowds
light up with a fiery glow
that stills my breath and heart
and flows through me totally

I pause to savour the scene
and notice that the birds have stopped too;
silence fills my ears
and I take a while

Just a little while

Time ceases
and I am content,
purely in awe
and purely thankful

The red scalp rises
with a radiating warmth
and I breath out in rythm
with a new song the birds begin

The path has yet to end.