Predawn Calls

Pre-dawn calls,
beckons me to come
outdoors to witness
the ceremony of Sun

in its ritualistic return,
for each genesis of day,
I insist in being present
for the glorious display;

birdsong lifts
as a gift, and I
turn skywards
my soul-window eyes,

and inside me,
all falls still
as the silhouette-on-pastel clouds
drift and swirl,

and Time itself
forgets to propel
the earth
in those moments
so angelically tranquil.