In the quiet of the morning light,
Where shadows play and dreams take flight,
I hear a whisper, soft and clear,
A call from realms both far and near.
Beneath the stars, in twilightâs grip,
I feel the pulse of lifeâs deep sip,
A dance of spirits, old and wise,
That weave the truth through darkened skies.
The river flows, so pure and free,
A mirror to eternity,
It sings a song of endless grace,
Reflecting love in every place.
Within my heart, a sacred flame,
Burns bright with every holy name,
A beacon in the darkest night,
A guide to endless, boundless light.