The calm before the impending storm is the softest.
I like walking home and taking in each moment.
The leaves start to rustle
Like a symphony tuning up for a performance.
The birds clear their throats to sing;
A concerto for a soprano.
The dews form in the morning,
Crystal clear and perfect.
The melody arises and I start to compose in my head.
I like mornings like this,
The soft rhythmic breathing as I inhale and out
Thankful for this little piece of serene music
As I waltz to the beat of the storm to come.
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