Salve for the dark-hour soul.

So gentle in its forthcoming.

The bleak darkness–

Grim and unrelenting–

Loses its hold

At dawn.

She advances unencumbered



Loyally dispelling the night

Once again.

Once again, the sun rises.

Once again, the eyes open.

The sky gazes back

Filtered through pink and gray.

“Good morning,” it says.

“A new day is here, Dear.

Look at the light

Tiptoeing through the trees.

Let your heart lighten

And travel with it.

Morning has arrived.

Your Friend is here.”


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