The first bird sings its melody
As the sun rise slowly brings the day
The bird sings for its beauty
With the suns first blissful ray.

The tulips bloom out of darkness
The grass crisp with morning dew
The signs of natures wakefulness,
the old of yesterday, new.

This moment if not perfect
Is the closest thing to
As all life does resurrect
And live on though and through.

And these fleeting moments may be rare
But that is why I must take care.