Morning Dew

This is my favorite time of the day

When the sun is waking up and peaking over the pine trees

When the light is soft and buttery

I walk through a golden mist

I breathe in a slow, heavenly hush

Halos land on the leaves of each black walnut tree

Their shadows stretch long across the damp grass

I follow the path of the morning sun to open the tunnels

Beneath the arches, the scents are sharp and alive

Spicy, peppery humidity slices through stagnant morning air,

A sharp sulfur aroma exhales from the narrow rows of kale,

The musky perfume of the tomato vine lingers on my skin

The soft cosmos look lit from within

Droplets of morning dew cling to the rolled dahlia petals

They tremble like quiet tears as I pass

In the distance, the apples glow between the leaves

A robin's nest hidden among the branches

A tiny cradle for new life

Then, the herbs

My fingers brush their tender tips

Nothing gets my blood flowing like basil