The green stained glass leaves of spring
A feather choir sings
Awakening while the world still slept, I slipped outside to stand on the porch, watching the twilight creatures stir before hints of rose brushed the horizon. The air was cool and refreshing upon my bare arms, and birds flitted from branch to branch, calling out to celebrate the approaching ascension of the sun. Soon their clear silver melodies spread through the forest, and the new day began to the orchestration of hundreds of simultaneous songs.