Promises

In the quiet of the morning
Still dark with cloak of night
The whisper of the raindrops
Promise flowers blooming bright

The quiet of the hour
Sits with the chill of winter's touch
The sun awaits its travels
Promising warmth and light and such

Not even birds are stirring
Their morning chirp has yet to start
The promise of a new day
Has yet to fill their heart

My weary eyes grow heavy
I might return to bed
So the promises of the yet unknown
Can gently fill my head

The clarity of the hour
Is lost only in the fog of sleep
With the chance to do what's right again
Is my dream I promise to keep