The path he takes this early day
Is dressed in dew and straws of hay.
The morning mist obscures his view;
The barn, though near, seems far away.
The sleepy sun begins to rise,
And light prepares to climb the skies.
He sees the path much clearer now,
As life awakened fills his eyes.
He senses changes autumn brings,
A mix of scents from lovely things.
The air, perfumed by turning leaves,
Is fragrance loved by serfs and kings.
Above he hears migrating birds,
Their calls of joy, like soothing words.
They tell of lands where warmth awaits;
A transient home for flocks and herds.
The cows have stirred and move about,
And roosters crow as piglets rout.
A dog begins to run to him,
His faithful friend and eager scout.
So much to do while autumn stays,
Before the freeze of winter’s gaze.
And yet, for now, he walks the path,
And sings a psalm of morning praise.