Wake up, wake up!
The morning voices call,
A dove, a rooster, crickets chirp;
How can you sleep at all?!
Even tho these creatures
It’s still and quiet ~
A peaceful charm
The sun’s not yet above the mount,
Cicadas creep carefully up the bark;
When the sun’s rays release their fount,
Their herald will be shrill and stark;
‘Til then, rejoice in the sweet air
Unspoiled, fresh, crisp and fair;
Sleepers miss the magic morn,
When each new, glorious day is born.