The nightingale calls,
Out of the darkness that hides the dawn,
His melody echoes across the valley of shadows,
Waking from sleep the lovers of light.
The nightingale calls,
Out of the light that veils the dawn,
His song echoes across the chaos of morning,
Rousing from slumber lovers of God.
This poem is also posted in the journal Writing in Snow under the folder Awardicon Items in my writing.com port. I am Prosperous Snow.
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