A new morning : A poem

A shade of gray in the sky
“Morning coming,” says a cry
Darkness lifts as moon says bye
Light showers at right time

Sun is in an orange hue
Sky is no longer the darkest blue
Trees are lit and birds they sing
Then fly over high with little wings

Light spreads slow and slow
Chirping of birds heard loud and low
Sun now shine up in the sky
It’s morning, open your lazy eyes

Morning is bright and free
I look at the sky and feel the breeze
Sorrows are old while love is seen
A day of mystery, calls for me

– Jan @jahnavigouri

Even the darkest night will end and the Sun will rise.

– Victor Hugo
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