Poetry: "The Bells of Dawn Salute"

The sharp sound of an alarm,

Cuts the fog-laden morning,

Dragging a drowsy youth

From his dreams of life.

He stands with a quiet yawn,

Stretches and steps to his desk.

The reality of his dreams awaits;

Unfinished work hangs heavily,

Threatening failure with every

Fleeting moment lost.

Pen in hand, he pauses,

Half sitting, half standing.

The young man’s head turns

Slowly, following a sound.

He raises the blinds,

And the city smiles in at him.

Not the blinding, toothy grin

Of the afternoon’s crowd,

But a thin smile of sharing,

Full of remarkable sincerity.

The ear-catching sound,

Rings clear through the mist;

The city sings the final verses

Of its nightly lullaby.

With tender, quieting chimes,

The bells of dawn salute,

The city, the people, the morning,

Reminding one man to wake,

To joyfully arise, to live

The life of dreams.