While the World Sleeps

Alive in the morning while the world sleeps. Early risers unite. The chill winds stress, the heavy clouds oppress, despotic priorities impress. Doors are locked, blinds are closed. Bodies repair wear and tear, snoring all the while, as I walk onward. The earth has just taken her morning coffee, birds begin their caffeinated chirps. Lighter, lighter. Alive in the morning while the world sleeps. A yawn reminds me of wakefulness. My belly reminds me of breakfast. Alive in the morning while the world sleeps. The days are not reborn. But they do age.