Early Morning

Before the day has truly come to be,
The sky is stained in pale and weakened light.
The steam curls up and twists above my tea
As the sun slinks beneath the guise of night.
Soon his fingers stretch towards the moon
To wrap her up in silken sheets of gold.
He drags himself above the skyline, soon
He's cradled in the tree tops feeling bold.
The brilliant light refracts within the dew
Of blades of grass. They push up from the earth
And bathe in sunlight that they soon accrue,
While never wondering what a day is worth.
The moon becomes a shadow, pale and thin.
I feel the warmth of sunlight brush my skin.