Before the dawn

 When the dawn comes 

When the dawn comes 

My birds have flown

Their matin songs long over. 

Two hours ago they were up

And ready with their chorus

Before we glimpsed the sun

Light up the Eastern sky. 

Before the Irish Sea had been invaded

By limpid light from our Eastern neighbor 

Before the Brecon Beacons shared the dawn

The birds were calling to their partners 

Whistling gaily a familiar song

To welcome in another day. 

These magic hours before the dawn 

Known well by monks in sacred halls 

By sleepless pilgrims, the insomniacs

Who populate this private time

Who own this hour and rule a world

That casts its spell on rich and poor. 

This special hour when cows in parlors 

Are milked by farmers still rubbing eyes

This time that yields to silence  

Cometh the hour, cometh the dawn

Then other noises are invading

Excluding voices of the early morn. 

Enter another busy day with elbows

Exiling weaker predawn creatures

Trucks start up with diesel coughs

Kettles whistle in apartment blocks

Children wrestle with a final sleep

Tossing in their nice warm beds

Still weighed down by heavy heads.