There in the windy flood of morning
Longing lifted its weight from me,
Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering,
Swept as a sea-bird out to sea. 
— Sara Teasdale, Leaves

Mornings are beautiful, and the chirps of morning birds fuel my renewed heart. They enter the sphere of my mind, their rhymes, their soul call, inspire me to be all, to grow wings like them, and to live within the glory of uncertainties.

I’ve always loved mornings, and this since I was a little child. I love the silence that permeates around at the break of dawn, and of the strange smell of purity that floats in the air.

Morning hot steamy black coffee, a book, and the chirps of early birds

At the golden hour, as so many poets beautifully name that time of the day, before most people awake to get busy, you can smell the real fragrance of grass, flowers, and trees, breathe pure air, re-oxygenate your blood and lungs, regenerate your all. 

To me the early hour of the day is as precious as a gemstone, for it is the only time of the day that’s not busy with buzzing people and pollution. Early mornings are clean, calm, inspiring, filled with wonderment, and of the beautiful songs of various birds.

I believe that everyone gets the chance to restart again in the morning, to leave our resentments and sadness to the already gone yesterday, and face a new day, filled with love and care and hope, to begin again as we awake to the idea of new possibilities; and that in the glory of a pristine morning, I can be a new person who decides to forgive, to have good thoughts and positivity… peace, healing, awakening.

I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.


After hours of sleep dawn takes me in its loveable arms to gently awake my mind and body, and its warm rays ripple to mingle with my dormant energy, which quivers at the touch of these first warming waves. To me it’s the most romantic hour of the day, for as light penetrates the soft matter of darkness, the sky alights in beautiful vivid colours — a beautiful scenery that always make me think that I’m living on a harmonious planet… nature’s gift of hope to us.

On schooldays and workdays, I try to always wake my kids with caring kisses on their head, forehead and cheeks, so as for them to gently wake up; and I kiss my husband goodbye as I tell him, “bonne-journée et bon courage,”… and to my kids, “have a good day and learn well.” I want their morning time to be positive, so that they can have a good day without stress nor anxieties.

No matter what happened yesterday, I want mornings to be the rise and start of a new day filled with possibilities and healings, thus, every day I welcome the splendour of early mornings as if I’m receiving a unique gift that’s meant to make me remember the subliminal and magical life in which we all dwell in.

When you arise in the morning think of what a privilege it is to be alive, to think, to enjoy, to love.”


Dayspring is also that time of the day where most of us pray, contemplate nature, meditate, breathe; we all pray to have a good day, for these grey clouds to dissipate, to get the courage to go on for one more day, for protection and peace, to get the courage to accept things that we can’t change, and to get the chance to wake up so as to see more splendid new mornings rise, and this, whether it rains, snows, or even if its a mystical misty morning… we all secretly want to find the right formula to live a fulfilling life fuelled by understanding and happiness.

COVID or not, war or not, this constant anxiety about the elevation of inflation, poverty; these incessant questions about why now, why us, what will happen to our children, how will this future look like… it’s torture… yet, in any part of the world you live, morning still comes, the sun still rises, the rituals of the sky at dawn remain the same since ages, and somewhere deep in me, as the sun rises, my degree of hope and gratitude comes forth, and this, no matter how ungrateful and pessimistic I’ve been yesterday. When morning comes, some more hours are lent to us, I think, so as for us to know how life really tastes like physically — morning, a superb natural phenomenon, a unique scenery that I’m sure will last eternally.