The dew is glistening
on the tepid waters,
dawn is breaking through
the morning's haze;
I stroll on narrow paths,
and catch a heron - in
my scanning gaze.
The sun is soft on
the far horizon,
and warms my limbs,
from head to toe;
I relish early morning air,
and every passing scene,
where my feet -
bade me to go.
Solitude, it's often
hard to find -
we sometimes get,
the harried other kind;
and so I gladly walk this trail,
to know that quiet will prevail.
Early morning breezes,
fan my furrowed brow,
and the only thing that matters,
is in the here and now.
Such days, remain a memory -
carefree days without regret;
doing what it is I want to do,
escaping from the worldly net.