I stopped to take in the grey morning.
The sun was yet to rise above the clouds and the morning crispness was all around.
Before the dawn, where the day is full of possibilities and chances for change.
Fresh air fills my lungs and I am reborn.
It is not the most radiant start, but it is mine.
I behold it with a perceiving eye of all it could mean.
Birds still sing on a grey morning
And grey can turn to blue in but a few moments.