In the hush of dawn’s embrace,
Feathers drift on whispered air,
Softly they dance, a gentle trace,
Of dreams that wander, light and fair.

Beneath the sky’s vast, endless dome,
They carry tales from distant lands,
Every plume a story, a poem,
Written by nature’s tender hands.

The world slows down, in awe we gaze,
At feathers floating with such grace,
Through the morning’s golden haze,
They weave a song, a silent praise.

As day unfolds its vibrant hue,
These feathers, like thoughts, take flight,
In their soft journey, pure and true,
They remind us of the gentle light.