Nature feels freer just before the morning
by shadow of darkness, by silver moon beam.
Life is then heightened, more precious, more vibrant
a whirled fuzzy achene caught up in the wind.
There is so much silence, such peaceful contentment,
I envy it, miser, earthbound human kin,
and wish I were song birds, a whipping of branches
a dew covered cattail, a wave in the stream.
