Early Morning

The sun hides behind the clouds.
As a child I was shy,
and now I'm only afraid.
Of what you ask, I couldn't say.
But this morning wakefulness leaves me content
as birds sing to one another in the rising light.
At the beginnings of days,
I remember very little of my troubles before.
Fear only comes during late afternoons and nights.

Yes, I relish these mornings--
the quiet light the sun makes,
the slow, steady turning of the summer wind.

It's only now the present is allowed to reconcile the past.