Quiet morning
Settling softly from dawn to day
Gentle stirring
Amidst the dew-coated fields
Silent sun-rays nudge the land's tired slumber
A freshness left from the night
Blankets the morning
In undiscovered sweetness
I walk softly through the damp field. Dewdrops ride along on my bare legs, cooling them and leaving a slight tingling. I find a narrow path made by the deer and follow it slowly, savoring the freshness of the morning. The sweet singing of nearby sparrows and wrens accompany me. Large crows fly overhead, barking at me half-heartedly. The scent of honeysuckle carried on the breeze leads me next to the woods-line.
I stand in the shaded path, looking out over the meadow into the heart of the sunrise. The wheat rolls like waves under the scarlet brush of the dawn, and silver sparkles dance like glitter on its stalks. I lift off and dive into the softness, then rise to soar just above the soft bristles, my hair blowing back across my shoulders, my eyes closed - feeling my way over the fields. I turn onto my back and fall feather-like into the arms of the tall grasses, now crisp and dry under the sun's warmth, and sleep as the world awakens.