In the dark hours just before dawn,
I sit at the edge of a field and listen.
The wind has died to barely a whisper,
And the night birds have ceased their calling.
I can faintly hear a rhythmic beating,
Like the sound of a sea on a distant shore.
With each intake of breath, it grows louder,
With each beat of my heart, it comes closer.
I watch as the full moon drops behind the trees,
And the grasses rustle from an unfelt breeze.
Suddenly, the world is silent,
As the stars disappear from the sky.
As quickly as it appeared, it is gone.
The shadow from the sky,
Which now begins to lighten.
And in the distance, I can hear,
The echo of a distant shore.
