As the sun spills gold on the sleepy land,
I gather my thoughts, with a fire in my hand.
The world awakens, the sky blushes bright,
Each stroke of color tells a story of night.
In the whispers of morning, the birds start to sing,
A melody rising, a promise of spring.
With a heart that beats fierce, like the drums in the wild,
I wander the meadows, I feel like a child.
The shadows retreat as the warmth starts to creep,
The secrets of darkness now softly sleep.
And here by the river where the soft waters run,
I weave through my memories, like threads in the sun.
The echoes of laughter, the pages we turned,
Each moment a fire that flickered and burned.
With every sweet tune, I remember the throng,
Of faces and places, the roots of my song.
So hold onto the dawn, for it dances and shines,
illuminate stories like the stars in their lines.
We'll gather by the campfire, 'neath a tapestry sky,
And share all the tales that still wings to fly.
With a heart full of longing, I'll carry it through,
The dawn and the fire, the sky painted blue.
In every soft note, in the chords of my song,
I've woven my soul, where we all still belong.
As the daylight stretches and shadows take flight,
I’ll cherish this moment, this fleeting delight.
For in the dawn's embrace, with the world set to roam,
I find in each story, the threads that lead home.
Folk
Dawn, fire, song, sky, story