The Morning Mourning Poem by Ojeikpo Elijah

In twilight's hush, the world awakes,
A tapestry of silence softly breaks.
The morning mourns, in shades of gray,
A melancholy dance, a somber display.

The sun ascends, a hesitant climb,
Casting shadows, etching lines of time.
The dewdrop weeps, a crystal tear,
On petals wilted, fading from last year.

The birds, they sing, a muted choir,
Their melodies tinged with mournful desire.
The trees stand still, their branches bare,
As if in mourning, their leaves nowhere.

The wind whispers secrets, soft and low,
Of tales untold, of joy and woe.
It carries echoes of dreams unfulfilled,
In this morning's mourning, so gently stilled.

Yet, amidst the grief, a spark ignites,
A glimmer of hope, the dawn's first light.
For in this sorrow, a promise lies,
Of renewal and rebirth, beneath the skies.

So let us embrace this morning's sigh,
And find solace in its tender cry.
For in the depths of mourning's embrace,
We may discover beauty, grace, and peace.