You have always been a reason to get up in the morning,
when the frost lingers and sleep webs my eyes,
And the early light would dance through the seams of curtains,
golden and pure and staining the room sunny.

You were, unwittingly, somehow there, a constant;
Ever a lovely presence, warm and tender against my heart;
You've always reminded me of early morning suns —
If I could see your soul, I think I'd see dawn.