The earliest of rising,

The stillness of the silence.

The shallowness in the sky,

The darkness is moving from west to east.

No longer dark,

Now busy with sounds.

Sounds of  birds chrping,

Squirrels skittering,

And kittens meowing.

All of this for the rising girl. 

She rises for the beautiful Sun and Moon,

For the melodic sound of Nature.

For feel of Autumn caressing her cheeks,

In the misty October morn'.

She rises to meet with the smell of fresh dew,

Only to await for the sight of a muse.