Dawnlight

My dawn rose today. I don't know if you do but, I never take it for granted. It touched the window pane, lit up the dirty grime but the light touched my fading hair and woke me with a peaceful nudge. The morning dew danced on the leaves, out came a rainbow of colors that made its way to the street lines reflecting gold. The purple skies parted their way for that heavenly blue, the same color as the dots on my gown, yet not sickly or forewarning. I listened to the birds. Their song carried the dawn to me. Lovely chirps singing, 'The morning's come! It came!' Much more lovely than the beeps of the machine. A monarch landed on the windowsill. It fluttered its wings and tapped the window, wanting to greet me with a kiss, or perhaps only to eat the cold peaches left on the metal tray. The bare walls, saved for a cross, seemed to awake with the light, and breathe colors of the leaves. The tubes and needles, even looked less frightening with the light, that sprouted the rainbow. I wonder if the glorious morning will be the last one my eyes see, the oak trees, the light on the cross, the sparkle of warmth on my skin, I wonder if I will get a chance to see my dawn tomorrow, because there's never a guarntee when you're cooped up with tubes like me. I kiss my graying hand to the monarch, the leaves, dew, and clouds. I wished them well, and pretended the tears rolling down, was the dew kissing me back. My dawn rose today. I don't know if you do but, I never take it for granted.