I hear the lonely tones
Of morning’s serenade.
I see the newborn sun
On grasses; every blade

As sharp as memory.
Each colored flower explodes
With rapture as it shines
Along the lanes and roads.

I feel the misty air
Caress my waiting skin,
The building of a dream
That echoes deep within

This open heart of mine,
Now bursting at its seams.
It is the time to live
Beyond the realm of dreams.

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