If light had sound
The still night would hum
With the gray chorus
Of each small being
Announcing their quiet life
Under the fragile sky.
A painting drawn
With shaking fingers
Incomplete pieces of light
Reveal the hidden world
A canvas tattered yet whole.
It wakes and calms
Morning’s secret shadows
This noun and verb
Opens the sun
And begins anew
The story of today.
whoisfenton 