Appalachian Spring: A Morning Rhapsody

I silently slip out

Into the grayness,

Night chill lingers

In dawn’s dew

World awakens;

Clearing its throat 

With tentative chips and calls,

Stirrings on branch, in field

Alert, I watch… listen,

A crescendo of radiance

And sound inexorably bound,

Spontaneous rhapsody

Of light and melodies

Voices swell,

Birdsong at sunrise, 

A fitting encomium

To this spring morning

-Wayne H. Swanger