Morning

When the morning finally comes
Poking through the trees
Balancing the sounds of night to day
She settles for a bit
Behind a curtain of mist
Waiting to take the stage
Before daydreamers wake
To make Her clouds heavy
With contrasting shades of hope
That brings both sun and rain
She exhales a calm breeze
Of sweet pine and lemongrass
Ready to carry the weight of day
Until sunset comes to Her
Where She can rest again
And Maybe even dream