sometimes the day takes its first breath
and you don't even notice;
you don't even see the mist rise
or the dew slowly being drunk by the roots of the trees;
and you don't see the flowers yawn and bloom into their feisty, fierce and bold selves.
you don't see the bees get excited as their 'pantries' open,
or the birds crane their necks to tune their voices.
you don't see that each day is positioned on the verge of something remarkable;
something new,
something no eye has seen;
no words will have ever been spoken the way they are spoken each new day;
the thoughts are not the same.
the ideas are not the same.
the hope even shifts a little bit.
