Dawn’s soft light

Moves across the room,

Melting away the night’s shadows

On her sleeping face.

The beams cascade

Their cleansing warmth

Upon her scented skin,

Rejuvenating  the senses beneath.

One slow, steady intake

Of precious air

And then exhale.

As the wind blows gently

Through the half-open window,

Playing melodies with her free hair,

Her placid form shifts,

A slight movement to the right.

Her lips part first

Before she opens her eyes

To the beginning of a new day,

And she whispers,

“Good morning.”