Ever so gently, dawn
admonishes critters of the night
"Go, go, you must away."
Other shapes stir, venture forth
within the growing light
and test their voices, timidly at first,
to find the proper tone and timbre, calling
"Is there one like me who answers, out there?"
Soon the bustle of the day
will start anew, but I sit quietly.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Observe and hold my cup of tea, and sip.
I shall linger for a moment yet.
There is no rush, the day is young.
Within my own back yard
pippins of peace abound.
I'll wrap my thoughts around them.
Perhaps they'll find a loamy soil
within my core and grow.
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