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.