In the hush before the morn,
A gentle glow begins to weave,
Through the tapestry of night,
As dreams slowly take their leave.

The horizon blushes with hope,
As the sun begins its climb,
Painting skies with golden strokes,
In a dance as old as time.

Shadows stretch and yawn awake,
Embracing warmth and light,
Nature stirs with tender grace,
In the soft embrace of bright.

A new day whispers promises,
In hues of pink and gold,
As sunrise sings its gentle song,
Of stories yet untold.