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When morning comes, the dove will fly again.
The doe will lead her fawn into the meadow.
Like colored pennants, clouds will float on wind.
Sunlight will dispel the cold and shadow.
When morning comes, a new day will begin.

When morning comes, the shadows all will flee;
the tricks of half-light, swiftly disappear.
The darkened mirror, will not let us see,
But in the morning light all will be clear.
When morning comes, the Spirit will be free.

Moonlight casts a silken, silver light.
Starlight, through the spacial meadows runs.
Earth lies sleeping in the cloak of night,
and will awaken, when the morning comes.

When morning comes, creatures will awaken;
field and flower bloom, and rivers flow.
The lonely stranger will not be forsaken.
A joy will pass across the world we know,
when night has passed, and dawn at last is breaking.

All the dark dreams of the troubled ones,
will vanish in a warmth of morning light,
when the shining presence of a gentle Sun
paints a world that's colorful and bright.
The saddened heart will sing, when morning comes.

A whisper drifts across the sleeping world:
"The darkest hour is just before the dawn".
...just before the brilliance is unfurled.
The sleeper wakens, when the morning comes.

( Free Use-Public Domain-"Future Folk" Music-Betty J. Curtis-2002 )