the song of morning

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Perhaps the dawn is but the radiant light
spilling from my Beloved’s eyes,
coloring the skies with love,
and I have passed the night safely
in the grace of a sheltering embrace,
the darkness gentled by moonlight to give me rest,
the Beloved keeping a sweet vigil of peace
as I align with the pulsing rhythm
of a greater heart, feeling the warmth of loving care
having the faith to know thy spirit is there.
Nestling in the harbor of your arms to await
the whispering song of morning love.
N.