avatarChristopher Madsen

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clothed in the night. With Dawn’s forgiveness, removed is their old fright.</p><p id="84da">Mountain peaks held a sleeping shadow mold. Where across dark planes, our dreams gently told. We slept away, our penance forged by gold.</p><p id="747f">My morning ritual begins to warm a tired soul. Infused with magic removing social control.</p><p id="6194">Notice is given for an imagined state. Then open my door to journey out past the gate. In Heaven’s golden light watching, I wait.</p><p id="c798">Thank you for reading, and I hope you may find time to read some of my additional poems.</p><div id="c7df" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-charm-and-the-chain-e2cf4d4e1c06"> <div> <div> <h2>The Charm and the Chain</h2> <div><h3>A poem about the evolution of an unhealthy relatio

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nship</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*P5vcvfxAGg-0SCF2)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="9827" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/a-morning-walk-in-the-woods-5226ddcfd33a"> <div> <div> <h2>A Morning Walk in the Woods</h2> <div><h3>Communing with Nature’s Wisdom</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*Z2znynAElHbttyo5)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Every Morning to Witness

A sick day poem

Photo by Jordan Wozniak on Unsplash

Early rays of golden light, Beckon forth this day’s new sight. Now earthly creatures bath in your heavenly delight.

In green meadows, they drink from cold running streams. This morning’s birth heralds what our short life should mean.

With awakened fresh eyes, I look toward cloudless blue skies. Then hear a peaceful song from a hatchling’s soft cries.

Forests secrets that were once clothed in the night. With Dawn’s forgiveness, removed is their old fright.

Mountain peaks held a sleeping shadow mold. Where across dark planes, our dreams gently told. We slept away, our penance forged by gold.

My morning ritual begins to warm a tired soul. Infused with magic removing social control.

Notice is given for an imagined state. Then open my door to journey out past the gate. In Heaven’s golden light watching, I wait.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you may find time to read some of my additional poems.

Poetry
Morning Routines
Self-awareness
Spirituality
Blue Insights
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