Upon the crest of mountains steep, Where whispers of the ancients dwell, Morning wraps its arms around the peaks, Each breath a promise woven within silence.
The morning dew is nature’s kiss, Leaving traces of gentle warmth, As butterflies weave through sunlight beams, Dancing upon the air with joyous glee.
In this brief moment, all is clear, The pulse of life in vibrant hue, Stripped of all but essence and clarity, Transcending the shadows that bind us all.
- Giorgio de Chirico