I see the light,

the light of day,

morning tendrils seeking,

waking up the grass.

Birds are singing,

giving us a pass,

to begin this way.

To remember still,

how blessed we are,

to feel the thrill…

of life.

Each morning is a new one,

given as a gift,

a blank slate to do with,

whatever heals the rift…

in our hearts.

It doesn’t matter how,

it doesnt matter when,

intention is the key,

to being one in Love,

to bringing us together,

as meant to rise above…

the hate.

We each have a mission,

bound together by fate,

to use our gifts in peace,

to save the human race.