There appears the morning sunlight That awakens the tress, snapping the spotlight Getting refreshed for yet another day. The tress, they stand solemnly Ruler straight, *****, towering the skies. A ray of light springs up calmly Waking up the slumberous woods. And with that tiny stroke of light Chirping birds, wandering insects Breezes in to the limelight.
Yet, some other place dark as it is Devoid of the ray of light. The blooming flowers, the swirling waters Are at a standstill, inactive and undisturbed. As that tiny stroke of light becomes gross, The woods would dance with the wind Lift up their voice with the bird And bloom with the flowers. Beyond recall, life becomes alive At the cracking of the dawn.