Each day is like opening a book
and finding another poem
waiting for you
sunlight or clouds on the page
shadows or raindrops
the sound of the wind
the silence of snow falling
of clouds passing by
each morning a different poem
lighthearted or sad
a moody melody
a gleeful reprise
the moment you open your eyes
you can hear
the song of a new day
words filling your ears
sounds you never heard before
syllables that roll off your tongue
letters spilling onto the page
one after the other
a stream in flood
pulling you into the day
filling your lungs with air
with life, with gratitude
for whatever appears
on the page
beneath your pen
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