Waking Nature Poem by Dean Bradford

Rivers that slivers along straights and rounds.
Swirling the rocks and ambient sounds.
Swirling the rock and reeds that sway.
Through the night until the growing day.
Before the sun goes high in the sky.
The hazy mist flows mystically by.
Projected light beams streak through the trees.
A essence of lavender is blown through a breeze.
Combined with the fresh of the morning due.
And the rising sun to a morning of the new.