Listen to this morning drench night sound as the steady hum of crickets fades to one small trill with the first dawn smudging the sky with melting smoothie.
Then a chorus sounds of tree glazed song bird the backup for the tender rendering of the morning dove who questions the blinking eyelash asking who and who will hear my waking call.
Listen this pillow pulls me dream side with enchanted lullaby and the open window is my speaker and the sweet dregs of jasmine my youth and you my tongue in whispered sweetness loose me in the warmth against my back.
Then the day has ripened and a lawnmower plays the grass a chainsaw the tree and I am still fragile with the beginning that so sweetly opened and the birds fly across the measure of my window.
Listen as wings play the air and dance in grace to life.
[This message has been edited by Martie (edited 05-24-2000).]