The timid dawn creeps through the window pane,
With fingers pale to stroke the wooden blind;
The silence holds the room within its mind,
As shadows flee before the day’s domain.
Upon the crumpled sheets, in slumber deep,
A straying lock adorns your peaceful brow;
I watch the steady rhythm of your vow,
The sacred breath you take while fast asleep.
No spoken word is needed for this art,
Thy rest proclaims a love that knows no bounds;
While Time stands still and mutes all worldly sounds,
To etch this quiet verse within my heart.
There is no wealth compared to waking thus,
To see the light return into thine eyes;
A simple joy beneath the morning skies,
An endless love that heavens grant to us.
Drawing from the wells of Romanticism, this piece reflects on the quiet majesty of morning intimacy. It suggests that the profoundest connection is often found not in conversation, but in the shared stillness of the waking hour.
